


The MRS Diaries

by Alice_not_in_Wonderland



Category: Escape the Night (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftermath of trauma, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Escape the Night Season 3, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Help, Hurt/Comfort, Listen this was gonna be a one shot and now it’s over 30 pages long, This Is Sad, but it’s escape the night so I think we expected that, i mean lots of angst, i mean there’s some, im not even half way through, lots of matpat feelings here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-16 01:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice_not_in_Wonderland/pseuds/Alice_not_in_Wonderland
Summary: Really, they were youtubers. It was more  likely that they wouldn’t follow the no-technology rule than if they did.—-Or, if Matt had his phone while in Everlock.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this was going to be a one shot.
> 
> I started it like, two months or so ago, and somehow it just kept getting larger? I still have no idea how I’m going to format this and it’s more than a little rambly, but here! Have this really sappy, angsty mess of MRS related content.
> 
> Be warned, it’s escape the night.
> 
> Also sorry for the terrible summary.

Steph let her mouse hover over the file. _Did she really want to open this?_ Matt had given her permission a little over a week ago, but with Ollie and videos and events it never felt like the right time. Even now, with Matthew finally asleep (the fact that it was out of sheer exhaustion more than anything else failed to escape her, but asleep _was_ progress) and Ollie staying with a babysitter for the afternoon, she feels uneasy opening the documentation to what was quite possibly (definitely, if the nightmares are anything to go by) months of her husband's life.

_Matthew._ She remembers the day he came back like it was yesterday, the phone call she had received from an unknown number in Pennsylvania and only answered because she was desperate for any information as to where her husband had disappeared to. The apprehensive voice of a nurse on the other end speaking of a John Doe that just happened to have the same face and outfit he had been wearing the night he had left, promising to be back by midnight and then vanishing into thin air. She remembers the exact moment his eyes opened to look into hers, unfocused and wild and _broken_ , and she realized for as similar as he looked to the man she had lost that night, the man that returned wasn't the same Matt.

She had begged him not to go, her mind whispers traitorously. They had theorized about the slaughterings together, tucked into each other's side while poring over news articles and interviews. The information on each one was practically nonexistent, most forums and websites filled with speculation instead of fact, but Game Theory was never quite known for giving up so they found what scraps of information each article had and tried to figure things out anyways. They had theorized, they had researched, they had done it all together so when he got the letter they both _knew_ . She remembers the way she grabbed at him, one hand resting on her abdomen and the other clutching his hand as she begged him not to leave her, to _stay_ , but then Rosanna had called Matthew and she knew Matthew well enough to know that for him, there wasn't a choice anymore.

With a deep breath, Stephanie opens the file, letting her headphones connect to her laptop and turning up the sound. Whatever had happened in those dark weeks, Matthew has given her permission to know. He is far from being able to tell her, not when he can barely say the names of those who didn't make it without slipping into a full-blown panic attack, but he has given her his heart (again) and trusts that she won't let it shatter.

The folder itself seems inconspicuous. It is simply titled "MRS" which makes little sense on its own, but she knows that Matthew trusts her to figure out anything that she needs to know. The file opens to a series of videos, all of which filmed on Matthew's phone. She opens the most recent file, one dated just a day before he uploaded the file to her computer and gave her permission to look through it.

_"Hey Stephanie,"_ Matt says, and her heart clenches at the dark circles under his eyes. It's evidently nighttime, and he's tucked into a corner of the recording closet with Skip by his side. _"You're asleep right now, actually. I think Ollie tired you out."_

He pauses to scratch Skip under the ear. _"Course, it could be because it's two in the morning."_ His hand reaches up to tug through the matted curls of his hair, and for a moment his eyes look off camera, glazing over. Skip rubs up against his leg, bringing him back to the moment, and the smallest of smiles tugs at the corner of his mouth.

_"I probably should've given you these a while back. It's just-"_ He struggles a bit with what to say, his hand pausing in carding through Skip's fur, much to the cat's dismay. _"It doesn't matter. Not anymore."_

He breathes a little self-deprecating laugh, eyes darkening as his head ducks down. _"The videos are…weird. I think the files were screwed up a bit because of Ever-"_ he inhales sharply, eyes scrunching shut, before exhaling a shuddery breath and letting his shoulders drop back down. _"Everlock. But the videos play well enough and I labeled them, so you know what order to watch them in."_

He moves to turn off the camera, before stopping just short of the camera. His eyes, though guarded, are filled with an intense sort of warmth that makes her suck in a breath through her teeth. _"Love you, Stephanie."_

"I love you too, Matthew," she lets herself whisper, feeling a thread of something fragile and yet strong tug around her heart before the screen goes black. She blinks back a sheen of what might be tears from her eyes, scrolling down to find the first video that Matt had taken, one that dated to the day that he had left.

The video opens with a blast of sound that makes her lower the volume of her headphones with a wince. As the ringing in her ears subsides, she feels her throat tighten.

She never realized how much she missed listening to him sing.


	2. April 13th, 2018: Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And things kick off! There’s no possible way for this trip to go wrong, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been so sweet?? Thank you to everyone who has read, kudoed, or commented. Y'all are the best.
> 
> Anyways, onto the first couple videos!

_ April 13 _ _ th _ _ , 2018: Car_Ride.mp4 _

The camera is shaky as hands reach up to steady it, scratchy music blasting from the speakers of an old car. Matthew belts lyrics in the background making the user giggle, the camera shaking even more as to only pick up blobs of green and yellow offsetting a background of muddled browns.

"Is it on?" Rosanna's voice mumbles in front of the camera as it slowly begins to focus on her face. "Matt, can you tell?"

Matthew spares it a quick glance before looking back to the road, pausing in his overly enthusiastic rendition of Rent. "I'm not sure, Ro, but I'm not the best with all of that. Just ask Jason and Chris, I never know when the cameras are on."

"Really?" Rosanna turned to look at him, eyes bright and wide. "Why haven't I heard of this?"

"Sometimes I'll finish a recording session only to realize that I never started recording in the first place." Ro starts giggling, wiping off the faux serious look on Matthew's face.

"Only you, Matt." She looks intently at the camera, a little furrow appearing between her eyes as she adjusts the phone to better bring both of them into the frame. "Oh wait! Matt! It's on, the clock on the top is going!"

"Hello internet! Or well, Stephanie, at least." Matt's smile is playful as he gives the camera a dorky approximation of a wink. Ro laughs, waving excitedly at the camera. Their eyes are wide and bright and happy, grins threatening to snap their faces in half. "I wasn't actually supposed to bring a phone, but I thought that it would be fun to keep a little video diary of our shenanigans. "

"Who says we're going to be getting into shenanigans?"

"We've already taken three wrong turns and I'm pretty sure we convinced a group of teenagers in a gas station that we were time travelers when we were buying gummy bears. It's hardly a matter of if, Ro."

She lets her head dip in agreement, turning off screen to fiddle with a side compartment before holding out a mustard-yellow plastic bag. "Speaking of which, want some?"

"Of course."

He reaches for a handful, and Rosanna smiles, her eyes crinkling in the corners, and she looks into the camera. "Hi Steph! We thought this would be a fun little way to spend the time, especially because Matt has to spend an entire day away from you."

"What is that supposed to mean? I'm perfectly mature," Matt says through a mouthful of gummy bears. "I don't think I know what you're implying here, Rosanna. Maybe you should explain it to our dear viewer?"

"It means you can't be out of her sight for more than twenty minutes without doing something stupid or waxing poetic on how amazing your wife is," she says without missing a beat, flicking Matt gently on the back of his head. He laughs, loud and high-pitched and wheezy (and so, so real) before a gummy bear inevitably ends up in the wrong tube and he begins to cough.

"Oh geez, give us a moment. See you Steph!" Matt gives a wave from where he's hacking on the edge of the frame as Rosanna's hand reaches to stop the camera. The phone ends up clattering against something, presumably the dashboard, as Rosanna turns the camera off to the sound of showtunes and laughter.

—-

_ April 13 _ _ th _ _ , 2018: Meeting_the_Others.mp4 _

"Matt, did you turn it on? Or do I have to check?"

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up," Matthew's voice speaks from behind the camera as it pans up, focusing on Rosanna's face. "I make a mistake  _ once _ ."

"Shush, you." Rosanna bobs up and down on the balls of her feet, quite literally shaking with excitement. "I haven't seen Joey in  _ months _ . It's going to be so good to see him again, especially after he disappeared!"

"Because that isn't suspicious at all."

"Matthew!"

"Ok, ok. Sorry," the camera shakes as Matt laughs a bit under his breath, a small pout forming on Rosanna's face. They're surrounded on all sides by trees on a road seemingly in the middle of nowhere, odd-and-end vehicles surrounding them. Various youtubers chat alongside the road. "Hey guys! You were invited here too?"

The other youtubers smile and say their hellos, directing polite smiles their way. Rosanna runs over to introduce herself to each one, her head swiveling back and forth in search for something. "Where's Joey?"

A tall man in a green coat looks at her from the corner of his eye. "We don’t know. We've been waiting for a while, now, but there's no sign of him."

Rosanna visibly deflates before shaking her head and returning to her bubbly self with a big smile. "Oh well, he should be here soon, right? I'm so glad to see that he's ok!"

The sentiment is more or less echoed by the others, who start to go back to their conversations from before Matt and Ro showed up. Rosanna finds someone to chat with, and Matt fumbles a bit with the camera as if to turn it off when a voice interrupts him from the right.

"Matthew Patrick, right?"

He turns quickly, and the camera morphs into a dizzying mass of color before slowly focusing on the person in front of him. A woman in a bright red sweater with a brown jacket on top and two intelligent brown eyes hidden behind pale blue shades stares back, her face stern as she focuses her gaze a little bit off screen.

"Uh, yeah! That's me!" Matt's voice is nervous, like he's a kid that's been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. "And you are-"

"Safiya. Safiya Nygaard." She smiles a little bit at the camera, reaching a hand out. "It's nice to meet you."

The camera shakes a bit before Matt's hand comes to meet Safiya's, and one quick handshake later Matt's gone back to manning his phone. Safiya quirks an eyebrow at that. "Is this for a future video or-"

Matt breathes an embarrassed laugh. "No, it's just for Stephanie. My wife."

Safiya's shoulders fall down as she relaxes, her smile widening. "Good. I was hoping that I wouldn't end up on the newest episode of 'Film Theory' for you to convince YouTube that I'm actually dead."

"Oh no!" Matt laughs a bit louder. "You've foiled my evil plan. Drats!"

Safiya's smile twitches wider before it begins to falter, something darker clouding her eyes. "Though, just between you and me," she says, her voice dropping several notches lower. "Something  _ is _ fishy about this whole thing, right?"

Matt's voice is cautious and low and chilling, even behind the camera. "Definitely."

 

—-

_ April 13 _ _ th _ _ , 2018: Campfire.mp4 _

The camera jerks to a start way too close to Matt's face, who is laughing a little under his breath. Next to him stands Rosanna, who obviously has no qualms about staying in character with whatever overdramatic idea Matt has this time, while Safiya rolls her eyes just barely in the screen.

_ "Hour three of waiting for Joey,"  _ he says with a sort of stage whisper, making Rosanna break out into a fit of giggles.  _ "There's still no sign of him. Evidence shows no evidence of him being here." _

Safiya smirks off camera, looking more like an exasperated parent than a part of Matt's shenanigans. "You used evidence twice in that sentence, Matt."

"I did neuroscience in college, not English, Saf." Matthew quips back at her with a smirk, and behind him a woman wearing a bright pink dress - the other survivor, Nikita Dragun(?) - rolls her eyes.  _ "Should we go back, or should we wait? The shadows grow longer; the sun falls below the horizon." _

"Matt, it's been dark for an hour and a half."

"Shh!" Rosanna is full on laughing next to him, wheezy breaths echoing in the phone's speakers. " _ We have created a campfire in wait for him, but I fear that we will not be able to stay much longer." _

"I would've left already if it wasn't for the prospect of revolutionizing physics as we know it. Also there is no  _ we _ in the creation of that campfire, your nerd facts were of no help."

"Honestly, same to the time travel thing," Matt says, a thoughtful crease appearing between his eyes. "I wonder what Austin would think of all of this…"

"Is he the one that makes the more science-heavy theories on your channel?"

"Yeah, he loves physics."

"He'd probably just scream about how the implications of what we're doing will tear apart the space time continuum and destroy the world, somehow."

"Fair."

\---

_ April 13 _ _ th _ _ , 2018: Joeys_Arrival.mp4 _

"Matt are you seriously still doing that video diary thing?"

The camera starts up to darkness, Safiya's voice coming from the right side of the screen. A bright light moves across the screen before coming to rest above Rosanna, whose hair is somewhat illuminated by what is presumably a flashlight.

"You say that as if I have anything better to do."

The flashlight swivels to Safiya's face just quickly enough to catch the withering glare she gives in the camera's direction, before moving under Matt's chin to light his face up from beneath. His eyes are bright with mirth, Rosanna tucked into his side in the darkness.

"So! We've been here for about, uh," he pauses, shooting a sheepish grin off to the side.

"Five hours." Safiya's voice is as deadpan as always, but a smile belies her amusement at Matthew's antics. Nikita is notably not as impressed, giving the three of them the stink eye as she goes back to her conversation to the tall man next to her.

Matt opens his mouth as if to say something, but he's beaten to the punch by the tall man from earlier who is decidedly not over the 'waiting for five hours' thing. "Where is he? It's dark out, we had to start a  _ freaking fire _ , and I'm starting that either this was a really shitty joke or Joey's just a bad host."

"I thought this was just a collab," another voice calls out from the side, sounding nervous and a little confused. "Like, I just thought, like, this was going to be a collab." Rosanna turns to look off-screen, her teeth worrying her lip. "Why did he have us meet him here? Is  _ this _ the town?"

Matt laughs, though it sounds more unsure than genuinely amused. "This is  _ clearly  _ not the town." He looks back at the camera and spins it around him a little. They are surrounded by trees, with only them and their small campfire as any sign of nearby civilization.

Safiya's eyebrows scrunch up from beside him, and when Rosanna looks the other way she and Matt share a concerned look. Behind them, shadowy figures of youtubers wait by the fire, whispering in hushed voices with a rushed sort of intensity. Joey is nowhere to be seen, and as the night stretches on they grow restless.

"I think we've waited long enough," says the voice from earlier. It's distinctly female and a little annoyed.

"Yeah," the taller man says. His movements are indistinct in the dim lighting, but he pulls someone to his side as he begins to turn away from the fire. "I agree."

Rosanna fidgets from beside Matt, looking more worried as the other youtubers murmur their agreements. Her eyes dart from side to side, giving one last look around the area in search for her long lost friend, and Matt reaches out to squeeze her gently on the shoulder. She leans towards him, and Safiya opens her mouth to address the group when a voice interrupts her from off-screen.

"You guys came!" Joey's voice, a little hoarse and suspiciously cheery calls out as the man runs over. His hair is blonde instead of the usual brown and he's suspiciously pale, but there aren't any visible injuries or anything offering an explanation for his months of disappearing off of the face of the earth. Excited laughter and cheers bounce through the surrounding youtubers, their faces alight with joy. The camera spins to show Joey giving Safiya a quick hug before pulling in Rosanna, her face buried in his shoulder as they reunite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Eugh this writing is s o old)
> 
> This is fluffy, big woop! Enjoy it while it lasts.


	3. October 13th, 1978: Welcome to Everlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The youtubers have arrived in Everlock! There are snacks, games, and fun galore. And, well, if the clowns running the show just seem a *bit* off, well, it can’t be anything too bad, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot, another chapter! 
> 
> Things are starting to pick up (supposedly, this was really just an excuse to write fluff with MRS having fun at the fair)
> 
> Diet Coke was invented in 1982.

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"I got popcorn!"

The camera flickers on to Matt as he runs towards it from across a street, surrounded by carnival rides and stands while people dressed as clowns yell at them to play their games. There's a try your strength game over to the left with a hulking man by its side, and Safiya lingers in the right of the frame rolling her eyes at Matthew's theatrics.

"What flavor did you get?" Ro's voice is tinged with laughter from behind the camera, and Matt reaches the carton over for her to grab some before answering.

"They only had butter and salt, but it tastes alright." Rosanna gives a little hum in agreement as Safiya grabs the carton from Matthew's still outstretched arm. "Surprisingly not stale, for popcorn from the 70's."

"So we actually time traveled," Safiya says through a mouthful of popcorn. "Didn't think it'd be possible."

Matt nods, an almost manic spark lighting up in his eye. "Yep. This actually does make for good theory fodder, if it weren't so hush-hush."

"Is it?" Safiya's eyebrows furrow in concentration. "I don't remember anything like that being on the invitation."

"That's true. I just assumed, considering all of the strict rules and stuff that Joey felt was necessary to add on the letter itself. I felt like I was signing a non-disclosure agreement or something."

Safiya rolls her eyes. "You mean the same rules you're breaking right now?"

"Touché."

The camera shakes out of focus as Rosanna reaches over for another handful of popcorn. "It's so cool, though! I can't believe that we actually time-traveled. It's like we're in one of those old nerd movies or something!"

"Excuse you, I happen to think that those "nerd movies" are perfectly valid and not old, thank you very much." Matt tries to steal the popcorn carton back from Safiya, who ducks out of the way and sticks her tongue out in response. "You think we should check out some of the games?"

Safiya grins, still holding the carton of popcorn to her chest. "Sounds great. There's one over there where you knock down plush clowns that looks rigged even from here, and I really want to test it out."

"I thought I heard someplace to do some kareoke!" Rosanna's voice is cheery as the phone's camera turns a little to left. "I think it's over there, closer to the Ferris Wheel."

They begin to walk towards a stand, Matt and Safiya talking animatedly in the front as Ro films them from the back. Matt's hands fly in the air as he rambles, Safiya nodding along. "So, I mean, we're supposed to be here to "save the town" or something, but I really can't see anything wrong with it? I mean the clowns are creepy and all but clowns are always creepy, but then we just got possessed by souls or something before being magically - I'm guessing magically because the physics of this makes no sense - transported to a town in the 70's and- oh my god."

Safiya looks at him weirdly. "What?"

"I just realized that Diet Coke hasn't been invented yet."

Rosanna bursts out into wheezing laughter at the exasperated look that Safiya gives Matt, speeding up to where he's standing with a devastated look on his face to whack him lightly on the head. "You can deal without any Diet Coke for one night, Matthew."

"But Diet Coke."

Safiya buries her face into her hands as Ro laughs, the camera zooming in just enough to catch the edges of a smile on Safiya's lips.

\---

O̵̧̘̤͙͖͈͕͚̩͎̊̀̅̕c̷̛͍̬̠̺̎́̓̅̑͋̊́̆̚͝ţ̷͖͓̩͕͎̤̬̫͓̦̬͋̈́̍̂͆͌̿ơ̷̛̦̪̥̘͒̋̌̑̾̋̊̌̕͠͠b̵̟͉̪̻̦̰̊̍̐̇̃̍͑͗́̏͂͌͘͠e̸̝̙͖͛̍̆ŗ̶͈̹̪̽̅̽̓͗͂̔͘ ̵̧̦͖̘͇͉̙̘͓̐͒̂͜͝1̴̡͕̥̥̗̦̞̤̪̖̲̬̳͕̆́̃͐͌͊͒̃͒̀̚̚͘͘3̵̢̛̼̠̆̕̚͜th ̷͉͎̖̱̩̀1̸̢̡̨̰̗̫͓̩̾̏͌̀̈́́͌̑̓̃̒͆̅̕͜͠9̸̮͂̍̎̀7̸̧̧̹̪̗̼̜̰͉̠̭̠̹͂̐̍ͅͅ8̵̢͖̜̻̩̗̹̥̘̯̼͈͗̿͊̂̃́̑̅͂ͅ ̵͎̹̩͔̜̜̺̃̏̅͜t̴͉͇̱͉̱̒̆͗̈̋͌͘͠H̸̢̡̺͖̬̹̰̓͑̿̂̌͋́̚ę̷͇̦̠́́̈̉ ̶̨͈̳̥̭̠̬̝͈̩̖̾̉̎̆̿a̵̧̢̹͎̫͚͈͚̤̭̱̻̘͇͊̓͠͝R̵̪̭̘̈́̑͑̽͗̈́͘r̸͉̳̝̗̯̦̝͕͕͚͖̤̀̒͊I̷̛͔̤̰͔̜̩̹͆̀̅̆͆̚̚V̶͔͓̱̭̽̆̈̑̐̾͐͗̍̽́̑̓̃͝ͅâ̴̡̢̫̞̺̬̠̬͙͖͇̖̯̻̑L̷̨̛͙̰̰̼̄͆́̋̿̐̂̓͒̕͝ ̷̧̥̻̙͖̱̠̝͔̞̲̠̠̤͋̈́̐̏̀͊̇́̾̏̚̚ͅO̶̢̢̨̤̠̣̘͓̻͇͎͑̍̒͂̽̑̇̕̚͘͝͝f̷̪͎̲͈̩̪̻̳̯̃́̒͘ ̵̨̪̥̙̄͐̿͂̔̈̋̅͂̅̽̔͝b̷̦̮͎̭̝̲̖̮̺̜̮͌̚͝ͅL̶̪̪̠͈̭̹̲͖̖̅̒̔͌̃̀͛͊̀͘ͅá̴̞̜̪̲̫̩͕̗ń̴̟͚͍̖̣̮͕̏̋̃̌̔͜͜Č̸̤͎̼̙̪̤̻͓̳̫ḩ̸̮͎̣̄̍̂͠ͅË̸̦̩͍̝̫̀̈́̃̓͊̾͐͝.̴̢̢͖̲̣͈͖̊̆͂̈̀͘͘͝͝m̵̧̝̾̽̒̏́̊̈́̂̓̋͜͠p̴̥̙͎̠̈́̀̂͑4̶̡͈̱̝̤̱̱̎̋͛̋͛̉̎̈́͒̔̕

"I told you, Matt. It's rigged."

"Shh!" Matt stands in front of a stand manned by an awkward-looking man with long straight hair, a beanbag or three in his hands. Safiya sighs, exasperated, from behind the camera as Rosanna watches the assortment of plush clowns with squinted eyes.

"Matt, we'll be here for the rest of the night if you keep trying," Matt paid her no heed, only taking another beanbag to throw at a clown only for it to bounce off the edge of the mount. "You've missed the last fifteen beanbags. Come on Matt, you've been at this for at least twenty minutes."

"Shh!" Matt feels the bag against his hand, staring ahead at the clowns with a determined expression. "I know how to do it; it's just simple physics."

"Then do it already!"

"But my aim is terrible." He throws another beanbag as if to prove his point, and it goes skidding too far to the right and just barely scrapes against the edge of a clown. "There's a reason why I didn't do sports in school."

"The reason was that you're a nerd."

Rosanna giggles, eating popcorn as she waits for Matt to get over his unending competitiveness. "Go Matt! You can do it."

"No he can't."

"Saf!"

Safiya's voice is fond. "Sorry, Ro. You can do it, Matt, if you actually figure out how to aim."

"Thanks guys." Another beanbag goes zipping past the tower, hitting the side of the stand and then falling uselessly to the table. "Really feeling the love here."

Ro and Saf laugh, loud and bright, and Matt's face twists with an effort to keep a smile off of his face. He takes another beanbag to throw when another man walks behind him with curly dirty-blonde hair and a sunny smile.

"JC!" Matt greets him loudly, tossing a grin over his shoulder. Rosanna waves emphatically from her spot by the camera and JC's smile grows even wider. "What's up?"

"Not much. This town seems pretty cool, for how it sounded on the invite." JC grabs a beanbag, looking at the assortment of plush clowns on different tiers of the stand. Matt, unsurprisingly, hadn't knocked down any in the time that he'd been there. "Mind if I give it a go?"

"Go ahead," Safiya drawls from behind the camera. "Or else saving the town will just end up being saving Matt from his inability to admit defeat."

"I resent that!"

"That was the point."

JC tosses a beanbag back and forth between his hands, taking another look at the rows of clowns. Matt watches him from the side, eyes glued to the beanbag with Rosanna tucked into his side. Jc's nose wrinkles a bit as he stares at a clown in the top row, and with an almost easy toss the beanbag hits dead center.

"Yes!"

"You did it!" Matt's eyes glimmer with childlike cheer, still staring at the clown that JC had hit. "That was amazing!"

The man at the stand's eyes widen before his face breaks out in a wide smile and he reaches for a stuffed prize to give Matt. He pulls down a large pinkish-red horse with spots of white, and hands it to Matthew who's almost jumping up and down with glee. "Her name is Blanche."

"Blanche?" Matt takes the stuffed pony into his arms, cradling much like a baby. Rosanna reaches over to pet the toy lightly on its head, Matthew cooing at its face. "Thank you!"

JC leaves, Matt still playing with his (somewhat) deserved prize. Safiya walks up to him, turning the camera halfway to put it into selfie mode. "Matt, why are you an actual child." Matthew sticks out his tongue, and the corners of Safiya's eyes crinkle with laughter. "Not exactly helping your point there, Matt."

Ro's eyes are soft as she watches Matt and Saf, bubbling over with warmth before she turns to look at a stand farther away. "Ooh, Safiya! There's the kareoke one!"

A devilish gleam enters Matt's eyes. "Singing?"

Safiya groans. "Matt no."

"Matt yes."

"Matt no."

Rosanna starts pulling Matt along towards the stand, and he looks back just long enough to give the camera a cheeky wink. "See you there!"

Safiya watches them leave, her face settling into a fond smile as she reaches to turn off the camera. "Theater nerds."

\---  
Ǫ̷̙̗̼́̃̂̓̆̌̊͘c̷̨̧̧̛̛͈̗̣̟̜̙͕͎̮̯̊͌̾̾̊̈͐́̅͗͒͘ͅt̶͎̭͈̜͔̬̞̪̆̌̾̌͂̓̊̀̽̈́͘̚͝ͅo̷̱̫̝̠̱̜̟̻̹̭̱̝̣͋́̍͜ͅb̵̙̪͓͕̫̞̤̺̺͌́̿̎̈́̂͒̾̂̄̕͝͝ͅe̷͍͇̱̰͉̹̟̪̹͋̂̕r̶̻̩̣͚̞͐̑̈́̓́̃̆͋́̈́̇̇̐͛͝ ̷̨̤̪̫̱̖̯̟͍̣̲̗͋1̸͚̺̳̳̗̹̏̚3̴̨̧͓̰͚̝̩̭́̒̇͗̑̅̃̂̐́̅͐͛͝͝t̸̰̳͎̥́̈́̒̃́͊̈́ͅh̴̠̦͕̘̻̥͉̓͗̎͋̿́̉̐̂̇̓͋͝͝,̷̨̢͎̘̦͉̪̰̉̓̏̈́̿͘ ̷̧̨̬̳̟̤̱̹̖͂͐̍̿1̴̢̣̭͎̠͉̪̼̗̪̩̳͚̺̍̑͒͐̇̓9̷̻̙͙͎̯͖̪̝͚̬̘̫̓̒̋ͅ7̴̛̖̰̮̘̖͒̍̐̇͂̃̈̏͋̓̚͜ͅ8̴̨̮̎̓:̷̨̦̮̝̲̗͇͙̲̘͔̩͂̓̇͂̑̌̂͛͂̉͘̚͝͝ ̴̹̼̥͙̙̙̞̺̲̆̉͑͐̅̕ͅĶ̵͖͎̦̱͑͑a̵̓̍̒̓́ͅr̷̫̥̓̀̔̈́̓́̿̚̕͝ě̸̲͊̚ỏ̶̝k̸̖̭̗̙̗̩̥̗̮̣̉́̽ͅę̴̫̼̯̦̜̰͉̱̻͂̊̂̉̋́͛͛̚̕͠͠.̵̹̞̪̯̄́̄̓̕͝͝m̴̢̪͚͎̝̦̦͐̈̏̽̄̋̈́͘ṗ̴̧͓̩̗͍̬̼̯̈̄̍͠4̴̰̖̳̭̼̬̜̫̿̏͑̂̍̄̐̉̋̈̔͜͠

"Oh my God Matthew please stop."

The screen opens to Matt's face squished against Rosanna's, the two of them way too close to the camera as obnoxious singing blares over the speakers. Safiya's voice calls from off screen, barely heard over the screeching music and overdramatic singing.

"Saf!! Join us!" Ro takes a breath to turn towards the left of a screen, her eyes sparkling in mirth. "I promise it's a bunch of fun!"

Matthew winks at the camera, still belting a surprisingly good rendition of some cheesy love song. "This one's for you, Steph," he says through a small break with an upbeat instrumental. "And baby boy. Can't leave the kiddo out."

"He's going to be such a diva," Rosanna giggles, poking Matt haphazardly on the cheek. "Just like his dad."

"Heaven help us if we get another Matthew Patrick running around," Safiya shoots back, sending Rosanna into a fit of giggles as Matt sticks his tongue out at her.

"I think we're all hoping that he gets a bit more Stephanie in him." Rosanna joins in with the ribbing, only for Matt to fall into a lovesick sigh. "Though I think 'we' includes Matthew as well, the dork."

"Steph's amazing, and if baby boy ends up like his mom then I think we'll all be happy. I'll just provide the dramatics." He looks at the camera with a dopey expression. "Stephanie is the person I aspire to be."

"You're so cheesy, Matthew."

"Guess it's a good thing that Stephanie likes cheese, Saf."

"Speaking of baby boy, have you and Steph decided on a name yet?" Somewhere in the banter, Safiya had drifted onto the camera, pushing Rosanna a little off screen. Now, she had squished herself in between the two bantering youtubers so that the three of them barely fit onto the screen.

"Nope," Matt said, his eyes far away and filled with warmth. "We have some ideas, though."

"Any frontrunners?"

"Umm…Stephanie likes Oliver, and I think Julian's pretty good. Or maybe Alexander or something." He gives an embarrassed chuckle. "We haven't thought things out too much; the baby isn't due for a while. We're excited, though."

"Oliver's nice," Safiya says after a thoughtful pause. "Maybe you can make Julian into a middle name?"

"Ollie for short," Rosanna adds. "And I, as his favorite aunt, will spoil him and Steph and give them all the cookies while you're not watching."

"Oliver Julian Patrick." Matt grins at the camera. "It does have a ring to it, doesn't it?"

\---  
O̸̗̺͕̮̼͙̣͖̰̗͗č̵̨̢͇͚͕͔̘̲̠̾̉ţ̵̡̛̛̰̗͓̥͈͖͎̹̜̭͖͑̿͑̀̋̒̏̀̏̓̎̇͜͝ơ̵̗̤͗̉͘b̷̨̡̘̩͎͉̻̩͙̒̄̾̾͆̄̆è̴̩̻̭͎͈̞̖̯̝͍̪͐̓̏̓̈́͝ṛ̶̖̼̼̫͇̰͕̠͓͙̙͙͑͆͌̀̓̈̄̾̄̊̀̿ ̶̛̺̥̠̗̤̅͒̈́͋̿͌̄̏̚ͅ1̴̛͓̾̽̓̿̚͘͠͠3̷͔̱̇̑̾̐͛t̴̡̢̨̛̛̙͔̞̩̪̫̗̼͉̣̉̃̀͆̃̊ͅh̶͉͕̹̥̗͑͋̈́͝ͅ,̶̜̠͍̝̒̀̒͘ ̴̹̟͚̓̋̏̆̉̌̃͒̍̈́1̷̗͗̿̂͌̽̆̄̀̽̌͒̈́̌͝͠9̶͖̥̰̼̬̼̺̪̥̦̯̔̋́̓̒̌̒͛̂̏̇̂͘͝7̷̨͔̗̱͎̟͍̹̰͓̤̩̋ͅ8̵̧͚͎̤͓̠̗̔͊̋͌͂̓̐̓͛͑̓͘͝:̶̫͎̙̖̱̞͍̰͉́̈́͛͠͝͝ ̶̨̫̬̘̭̱̟͙̲̬̜̌̋͜ͅͅT̵̙̔̊͋͊r̴̡̥̮̻͉̮̦̜̲͓̪̭͐̈́̔̃̈̎͋̋͜͠ͅì̵̡͓͍̤͇͇̞̩̲̩̖̅̑͐͛̉̚v̵̡̛̤̰̭̮̪̻̾̄̊̈́̿̂̏̈́̊̕͝͠į̸̯̤̈́̅̈́̔̌̐̋̕̕͘͠͠a̵͓̱̭͌̔̇̅̈́͘_̴̣̹͚̜̺͙̇̏̈́́͛͑̓͋̈́͂́̅͋̆͝F̷̣͔̰̝̔̿͌͋̔͛͊̾̏͋͛͊a̸̛̩̖͒͛̈́̃͑͂͛͋̄̑̒̒̈́ĺ̶̝̻͖̝͔̞̇̓̌̒̅̅́͛̏͋̆̾̃ļ̶̬͎̻̘̞͓͓̞̮͖̮̹̬̙̇͐̅̆̽̏́̈́̾o̴͖͂͂͗͠u̴̫̹̾͒̋́̈́̔̂̅̑̅͜͠͠t̷̙̋̀̈́̑̓͘.̷̢͈͖͇̖͚̟̘̭͍̞̩̍͌̃̓̌̊͋̆̈̀́͘̚͘͜͠m̷̨̛̩͚̥͎̣͕̗͉̺̫͓̼̳͓̆̐̎͘p̸̥̒̈̋̈́4̸̧̨̬̙͓̠̭͈͔̻̜͖̜́̓͌͂̈́̍̾͂̅͗̾̕

"I won!" Safiya's running as the camera turns on, the frame shaking horribly as she laughs with something clutched to her chest. "Take that, Matthew!"

Behind her, Rosanna's laughter is clearly heard even as Matt begins to yell. "Give that back, Safiya! This one belongs to me, you cheat!"

"It's not cheating if you're not caught!"

"You're as bad as Stephanie, Saf. Give me back my prize!"

"It's not my fault you couldn't remember that we aren't in 2018 anymore!"

Safiya rounds a corner, significantly slowed by her attempt to film the chase. Matthew follows right behind her, his eyes sparkling even behind his ridiculous yellow shades. Ro laughs as Matt finds Safiya hiding in an alley. "Gotcha!"

"No you don't!" She ducks out of the way, running to the side as he fumbles to follow her. "Get away you fiend! This prize belongs to me!"

"It's rightfully mine!"

"In your dreams!"

The camera finally stops shaking enough to bring Safiya and Matt roughly into focus. Safiya's holding a blue stuffed dog to her chest, her sunglasses crooked on her face and hair wild. Behind her, Matthew holds Blanche under his arm, leaning against the side of a fence with a disgruntled expression on his face.

"How about we let Ro decide?" Safiya's panting, but her face is glowing with pride and happiness and smug satisfaction, and Matthew sticks his tongue out with an almost comical look of determination.

"Yeah, why don't we? Ro! Who won?" He pulls on the puppy dog eyes, and Safiya smacks him with the dog on the back of his head. "Hey!"

"That's for being an actual child."

Rosanna's eyes are fond as she watches them banter, looking from one to the other with an increasingly devious smirk. She walks over to Safiya, who has become so preoccupied with Matt as they banter that she's only barely holding onto the stuffed animal, and pulls it from her eyes with one fluid pull.

Safiya's eyes widen. "Ro! You traitor!"

"Yes! I knew I could count on you, Ro!"

"Shut up, Matthew."

"Never."

"Actually, guys," Rosanna dances a little in her jacket, holding the stuffed animal as high above her head as she can. "I think that Blueberry is mine, now."

"What?"

She sticks her tongue out and begins to run in the opposite direction, leaving Safiya and Matthew standing shocked behind her. Their eyes light up as they share a look of determination, and the camera shuts off to them chasing after Rosanna's retreating frame.

\---

Õ̶̠̖͔̼̙̖͛̋̏̏c̶̭̮̞̜̗̟̍̃͂̀̂̓̌͒͂͝t̷̢͚͙͓̘̼̞̟̀ơ̸̧̤̻̻͑̇̓͌̋̑͝ḇ̸̞̘̳̥̼͚̲͉͋ȩ̷̨̛͚̯̬̳̖͒́́̅̉̽̈́͊͝r̵̛̘̩̱̹̼̖͓̲̙̫̟̔͋͌͋̍̾́̑̅̄͆́͐ ̷̛̻̭̦̱̩̱̩͍̬́͌̉̅̑̂͠1̴̡͉͊̆͌͆́͋͗3̶̝̗̘͈̬̙̲̺̈́͆̀͛͆̄̾̓͆̈́̾t̴̙̹̞̳̰̱̦̬̑̅̌͜h̷̟̙͇̥̒̈́̐̍͛̈́͐̋͐,̷̛͖͇͑̿̌̅̏̽̏̌̕͝ ̶̡̣̦̣͙͙̺̯̤̮͈̖͇̪̇͘̕1̵̛̪͇̰̅̃͗͋̋̌̊͒9̴̢̨̩͎̯̌̔͗̈́̓̕͠7̵͉͕͓̮͚̳́̔̋̎̈́͐̀̃̅̃̈́̍͆͘8̸̦͇̘̻̦͇̊͐̔̉̄̄̈́͊̊́͐̈͋:̸̧͙͖͎̦̫͓̽ ̸̨̡̛̩̼̫̺̠͔̞̯̀̏̄͒͂̀̾̑̐͒̕͝F̶̘̥̦̩̲̝͖̙͕̠͇̘̐͊̔̂̓͒͗̑̿̄͒͋͌͝ḛ̸̥͕͕̠̦̟̮͌̕r̴̢͖̫͉̞̮̝̻̞̩͍̗̼̥̅͌͊͗͛̀̽́͝ṟ̶̬͕̼̘͇̰͍̫̺̰̓́̌̚͠ǐ̵̡̩̟̹͎̤̖̦͆̀̈͆͐̅͊͐͂̍̕̕͜ͅs̴̘̟̫̖̼̮̮̘͊͛͆̍̇̒̑̈́_̴̡̅͆̉̏̓́͂͊̈͠͝W̷̛͉̝͖̟͕̼͎͚͊̉́́̿͗̋́͆ḧ̵̨̭̟̱̲̲̼̫́͑̍͝ȩ̶̡̛̬̝̤̼͔̙̤͉̯̥͙͂̏̽̓̀̕ͅe̵̜̤̱̅̑̎̅̎̆͘l̸̬̔̄̈́̈̇̈̾͋̌́̎̈́̋͘͘.̸̘̝̅̔̍͋͊͋̐̓͑̃́̒̕͠m̸̧̜̯̳̺̮̠͓̠̗̗̕p̸̢̟̮̤͔̝̱̥̥̖͎͖̜̲͍̉̀̆̂́͋̀̎̍̿̒̃͝4̸̨̧̛̘̺̮͕̗͍̹̲̩̖͌͑̀̐̑̃̉͒̋͘

The camera flickers on to a shot of Rosanna walking down the dirt path, colorful lights and stands surrounding her on all sides. Behind her Joey rings the bell at the Try your Strength game, and Nikita tries her hand at the ring toss. Rosanna looks over and smiles when she realizes that the camera is on, holding the stuffed dog from earlier up in triumph.

"Safiya's gone off to check out some other games," Matt says from behind the camera, walking quietly down the path. "Says that she doesn't want to get on that 'giant metal death trap, thank you very much.'"

Ro giggles into her stuffed animal, falling back into step with Matt as they continue down the trail. He slows down almost instinctively as she speeds up, the two of them perfectly in sync as she drifts closer to him and the camera. The night is quiet, but not awkwardly so, almost soothing as they enjoy the sounds of the fair.

"Hey Matt," Ro calls, still holding tightly onto her stuffed animal. "When do you think we're leaving?"

Matthew hums in thought. "I mean, the town seems to be alright, so hopefully soon. This trip has been interesting, but we got a late start and I really want to get home to Stephanie. I promised her that we'd get back by midnight, not that I think we'll make it."

"Have you called her?" Rosanna frowns a bit, looking up above the camera. "I don't want her to worry."

"It's not going through. I probably should've expected that though, considering the time travel." He sighs a little, disappointment leaking into his voice. "I don’t want to leave her alone for too long."

Ro's eyes soften. "She'll be ok, Matt."

He doesn't answer, continuing down the path, and the camera falls a bit lower as they keep walking. Rosanna looks around before her face breaks out in a grin, and she reaches for her stuffed animal and taps its nose against Matt's shoulder.

"Don't worry Matthew," she says from behind its head, her voice deeper than usual. The toy dog nudges at the camera, filling the screen as Matt lets out an ungraceful snort. "Everything will be ok."

Matt nudges her back with Blanche, and soon they're having a small slapfight with their stuffed animals in the middle. The path they're traveling bends sharply to the left, but they stop at the entrance to something out of the camera. A clown grins at them from behind the gate, and Rosanna breathes out a small gasp.

"Wow."

The camera tips up to a Ferris wheel towering into the night sky, far larger and more dramatic than anything else in the fair. It's unoccupied, commanding a unique sort of grace over the rest of the proceedings below it, and Rosanna eyes sparkle in the dim light. "It's amazing."

The camera focuses on Ro and the soft grin on her face. Her stuffed dog is tucked under her chin, hair falling in messy waves around her head. Bright lights in greens and reds light her up from behind, surrounding her face in a soft halo of vibrant light. Her jacket hangs too large over her shoulder, and next to the enormity of the ride she looks like she's a child again.

"Yeah Ro," Matt says from behind the camera, the frame lingering on Rosanna as she watches the Ferris wheel. "It is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly the scene at the end with the Ferris wheel is what inspired this fic
> 
> Matt’s smart and he knows a lot about the 70’s, but he keeps giving facts about stuff that Doesn’t Exist yet because though he’s a smart bean he’s also Such an idiot I love him


	4. October 13 th, 1978: the clowns here kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things can't be all fun and games forever, unfortunately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: right what it says on the tin

Ŏ̶̡̧͉̺̝͍̺̭̦̭͙͎̀̑͆̍͐̋͛͠ͅc̴̡̙̹̪͎̙̠̙̥̘̈́̀̉̒͐̊͐͘t̶̢̛͖͓͕͔̹͍̠͍̤̱̖͈͖̽̄̓̔͌̆̑͋̕ǒ̸̱͉̞̘̺̈́͆̀͒̚͘͠b̷̪̮̳̘̱̤̰͕̗̪̓̚ͅę̵̮͈̳͉͍̻̀͗̀͂̈̍͜͝r̸̢̧̞̬̫͓̤̳̬̹̻͈͖̫̉̀̈́̀̉͊͌̅̔̆̂́̓͠ ̸̝̩̘͖̣̰̽͒̈́̇͐̈̇̍̾͋͠1̵̡̻̬̗̘͐̾̏̉̓̈́̎̈́̋͘3̷̥̘̺̜͎̌̋̑͂̃̀̍͌͜ͅt̵̻̫̳̑̽͂͐̿h̴̛͖̪̼̼͕̗͊̓́̌̿̔̿͊̆̊̓͝,̶̰̑̋̈́̅͒̈͆́̌̃͘̚͠ ̴̢̧̨̙͓̤̦̙͎̻̱̫̥͆̓́̀̈́̈́͠͝1̵̨̡̬̣̗̫͓͓̫͓̻̼̫͋͑̽͂̍͐̓̂9̵̮̲͍̙̤̎͒̇̆͊͊͌͘7̴̛͖͔̪̏̿͌́̽̅͘8̷̧̳̞̼̫̠͕͈̠̠̘̽̄́̔͛:̸̡̛̛̭͈̬̟͍̠̖͍͚̩̓̍̒ ̴̯͊̏́̏͋̎̉̎̒̐̐̓̉̕t̶͓̙̰̰͐̓̊h̸̢̡̛͍̰̞͊͌̐͆̓͐͒̒͜͠ę̷̯̖̻̺̘̋̏̅̆̋̇͒̽̀͊͌̂̍̄_̶̹̈́̇̐͒͐͊̏̚͝ç̷̢̣̠͈͙̠̥̦̬̣̫̯͇̽̓͒̇̒̅̈́̈́̀̆l̸̨̪̲̩̟̩̠̓͒̉͂́͛͜ǫ̶̖͚̪̮̯͉̿͑̉͂̑̃̚w̸̡̹̙͗̂̿͛̌͘n̵̢̡̻͕̪͎̊͌̾̈́͛͋́̀̒͂͛͋̄͊͝s̶̹̗̽̃̾̋͋̎͐͒̆̇̾͆͘͝_̶̼̈́̐̀̾̑̿͒͘̕h̶̡̞͚̽̏͊̐̌͑̋͝͝ë̶̡͙̥̮̠̳̖͙͛̋̍͌͐͆͊̽̊̚r̷̭̫̖̤̝̂̑͊̓̓̌̆͗̚͘ę̶̰̻̳͉͉͕̹͕̪͍̘̫͒̚ͅ_̷̘̲̳̋̓̕k̷̲̭̻͎̫̬͓͈̤͌̽͛͒͋̑̾ͅì̸͓̙̗̱̪͇͈̰́͛͗l̴͎̲͔̀̀͐ļ̴̨̛̱̟̙̪̱͓̻̲̼͓̟̩͐̋̈́̕͜͝.̴̡̙̪̠̻̫͎͈̣̩̄̂̅̆̓͌͑͗̑̇͊͊̚ͅṁ̶̢̦̮̠̬͓̣̫̮͝p̸̨̯͙͐͒͐̈̕͠4̵͍̣̼̖̫͓̞̱̖̝̱̘͔̙͉́͆̈́̏̈́

Matt's face is the first thing to come in focus on screen. They are much better lit now, somewhere indoors, and behind him people move in a flurry of activity. Snatches of panicked conversation drift from off-screen, as people half-walk, half-run towards each other with tense shoulders and sharp voices. Ro is behind Matt, next to Joey as Colleen Ballinger hisses at the blond man with words too low to pick up.

Matt fiddles with the camera, and immediately there is the sense that something has gone wrong. His pupils are dilated when he looks against the lens and his hair is more fluffy and messy than it had been earlier, like he had been running his hand through it the way that he does when he gets stressed. He rubs at his wrist, standing away from the camera, and though it's a little unclear his hands seem to shake in front of him.

"Stephanie," he whispers, too quiet for most people to hear him. Nikita almost storms across the room with the tall man in green following and calling her name. Rosanna is too busy with Joey to notice the camera, but Safiya drifts in from off-screen with clenched fists and a hard jaw. Both of their eyes are a little too wide, breaths a little too quick.

They're afraid.

"Steph," he calls again and there's a desperate edge to his voice, his arm flailing a bit at his side until he finds Safiya, and he leans into the feeling of  _ someone _ being there like it's the only thing keeping him on the ground. She hesitates before leaning back, perhaps knowing by now how touchy Matt can be. Blanche and Blueberry, somehow, have disappeared, and it feels like a bad omen.

"Something's happened. There was a newspaper clipping - and then everyone went insane and there was screaming and the clowns went crazy and  _ god _ people  _ died-"  _ his voice cuts off and when he breathes out a keening, high-pitched noise like a wounded animal leaves his lungs. His hand pulls through his hair in a jerky motion and he looks wildly around the room. "And then there was the carousel and _ crap  _ they had all of us, we were all there - Ro was there, Saf was there, we couldn't  _ do anything _ and if it wasn't for Mortimer then-"

He stops suddenly, hand still shaking at his side. Safiya looks at him in concern but her arms are wrapped tightly around herself and her shoulders are drawn up, almost to her ears, and it's all too obvious that she's just as scared as he is. They look at each other, muttering in an almost silent conversation, and then Safiya leaves with a concerned look at the camera.

"You were  _ right _ ," he breathes into the speaker, so close to the camera that it catches nothing but the desperate browns of his eyes and his drawn eyebrows. "I should've stayed home, I should've kept Ro from coming, I should've  _ listened _ ." His voice hitches like he's debating to tell the camera something, his internal debate almost tangible as his eyes flick back and forth. In the end, he decides something with his teeth drawn over his lower lip, eyes still wide with anxiety and desperate fear.

"There was a letter," he breathes out almost too quiet to pick up. "From some person doing something to defeat some - some  _ cursed god _ or something, I don’t know." His hand goes back to his head, clutching too tightly at the brown strands. "There are eight artifacts, like this is some stupid video game or something. Eight artifacts that have to be "cleansed" to defeat the final boss, cleansed by us because everybody else is  _ gone _ , and-"

He looks up, eyes moving slowly from left to right. His breath hitches. "To cleanse each artifact, they demand a sacrifice. One of us." A hysterical laugh that sounds more like a sob makes his shoulders shake.  "Two youtubers are leaving tonight. The rest of us?"

"The rest of us get to die."

\---

Ǫ̴̰̖͓̱̻͈̼̖͓̦̬̗̼͒̐̒̀̌̏̏͊̍̏̈́͐̆̈́͜͝c̸̨͍͙̙̻̯͓̘͉̥̞͙̩̦̃̈́͗̎͠ͅẗ̷̼̲̼͈̦̠̩͖̹̺́̍̀̿̾͊̀̎̋̌̈́̂̍͘o̴̮͉̜̫͚͔͓̲̔̀̅ͅb̵͕̘̠̟̗̥̑ę̷̢̭́̍͑͒̉͒̑͋͆͑͝ȓ̵̭̥̣̥̜̈̏̌̀͂̔̆̔͐ ̷̢̢̧̞̜̗̹̯̈́̍̎̿̓̾͝1̶͚̝͈̳̹͍͉̪͋̅͐̇͗̂͘̚͠ͅ3̶̝̫̞̳̥͈̞̬̋͆ṭ̸̨̨̢̪̹͈͕̘̝̦͉̘̑̿̀̍͋̔̄͜h̷̨̟͈̟͚̓̅̈́́̓́̏̿̋̇̿͘͘,̶̡̛̤̻̖̳̤̣̙̯̣̞͖̌̀̆̾́ ̸̬̭̱͔̺͎̮͓̳͓̘͚̈͐́̕1̸̡̗̘̞͙̰͉̠̮͙͔̦͍̌̉͐̏̎̆͘͘9̸̨̝̩͓̖̮̮̳̯̯̩̩̤͚̪̆̀̇̃7̶͓̖͍̞̍͐̈́̽̚8̴̨̢̛̛̛̯̞̖̮͇̜̲̮̪̭̓̇̏̽:̶̗̦͓̗̗͔̪̹̗̪̗͌ ̸̡͔͓̜͕̱̬͎̫̫͓̫͓͛̈̃̃̍́͂̊̏̂̾̈̚͝J̵̬͙͖͗͛̃̓͂̓̌͋̑̀C̵͍̪̄_̴̡͚̪̖̯͒̄͋̏͐͗̅̄͘͘͠ͅC̶̡̧̢̡̬̘̮̯̣̣̖̘̟̈̔̑̾̅̈̈́̿͒̔͑͘͜a̵̛̛̻͎̝̅͗̑̀͒̍̾̋̚͠y̶̨̢̧̜͖͓̙̞͉͔̣͉̅̆̀͑͐͂̀͋́͆͝l̷̛̰͍͖̳̘̭̘̠͈͉̬̼͔̀̚ȩ̶̣̒͝ņ̶̨̡̧̫̜̤̫̮̫̳̓̍̒̉̇͝.̷̤͆̊̍͊̉̎̌̌͝ṃ̶̄̀̓̄̍̀͆̊͐̔̔̽p̵̨̧̢̫̤̙̣̳̰̺̠͖̟̈́̓̑̃͌͂͘͝͝4̵̡̙̦̗̬͖̳̅̎̀̾̔͌̽̈́͋̅́̃̔̚̚

The camera flickers on. Almost immediately, a hand shows up on screen, easily covering the majority of the lens.

"Matt, are you sure?"

Safiya's voice is quiet, rushed. There's a rustling of fabric and colors move across the screen, another hand grabbing at the phone as Matt's voice comes from somewhere off-screen.

"Give me the camera, Saf."

"Matt, please." The hand remains firmly clasped around the phone, and Safiya's voice sounds almost pleading through the phone's speakers. "You don't have to do this."

The room is quiet save for the hushed voices of conversations across the room and Matt's breathing, harsh and a little fast. The finger on the lens tightens and then relaxes reluctantly, the camera falling into Matt's hands with a loud rustle.

"Be careful, Matt."

The sound of footsteps is all that can be heard for a few seconds as Safiya walks away, the phone being held carefully by Matthew's hands. Even though he isn't struggling to get the phone back anymore, the camera shakes minutely. A long, rattling sigh fills the speaker as Matt takes the phone and fumbles to set it up on a nearby table.

The camera, set awkwardly at a lower angle on a table, begins to focus. They're in the same room from last time, but Matt's in a different part of it; sitting down in a corner and his arms crossed over his chest. He looks down so the camera can't pick up his eyes, but his shoulders shudder and his hands shake and he looks like he's aged five years in the time of what cannot be more than an hour.

"He's dead," Matt says, quiet and hoarse and desperate. The breath he takes in is shaky, but he grits his teeth and tenses what seems to be every muscle in his body to keep himself from breaking down. "JC."

He looks up suddenly, like the man will appear if Matt calls his name, but nothing happens. Matt turns his head to the camera, finally looking the lens with dark, dead eyes.

"I didn't want to think it was real," he whispers, hands clenching and unclenching on the table. "I knew about the previous slaughterings; I knew that everyone had died before, but it had been fine!  And it seemed serious, when everybody died and when they talked about the artifacts, but I was thinking and special effects exist and Joey didn't seem worried and-and it's so different when you're told that people are going to die and when they actually do."

His breath hitches in the middle of his sentence, and someone calls his name with a sharp command. He tells them that he just needs another minute, speaking quickly to hide the quaver in his voice.

"I voted him in. I didn't think; I wasn't thinking; God I thought it was just a  _ game _ , but then he chose me to protect him, and how could I when I was the one that voted him in in the first place? And Teala chose Safiya and I couldn't get the hotdogs down and I tried, I tried so  _ damn _ hard and it didn't even matter because I failed."

He cuts himself off, eyes dead and a million miles away. "They stabbed him." He shakes violently, eyes blinking quickly to prevent tears from falling down his face. The camera lens is still crooked from when he had thrown it haphazardly on the table, and the female voice from earlier barks his name. "I never really thought there was so much  _ blood _ in someone before."

Rosanna walks on screen, her lips set in a determined half-frown. She looks worried as her eyes flick to the camera. "You ok, Matt?"

"Yeah."  _ (He isn't.) _ He turns to the short brunette, a tight smile on his lips doing nothing to hide the haunted glassiness of his eyes. "It's not like Steph can hear me anyways."

He pauses right before he grabs the camera, looking like he wants to say something. His mouth opens before his shoulders sag in a shaky sign, and the screen goes black.

\---

Õ̵͔̳̜̹̯̫̟͚͙̦̜͑ͅč̴̡̙͈͎̲̦̠͖̗͛̋ţ̶̲͖̤̬̾̓̐͠ȯ̵̡͖̞̼̗̘̞͔̟͈̱̳̽͊̊͆͘b̵͉̜̬̰̬̻̻̟̱̩̊̅̍̉́̍̓̚̕̚͜͝͝e̴̯̩̳̗͙͈̻̊̀̀͐̌́r̶̝͓͎̥̮͍̐̀̀̄̿͂͒͜ͅͅ ̷̤̰̼̹̓͆̒͝͝1̸̞̪͖̈́̾̾͆̽̒̓̽3̵̳̝͈̰̥̩̠̒t̵̢̧̰̟͎͎̹͎̪̔͗́̌̂̈́̍̇͒̔̀͝h̷̠̝͍͚͈̥̪̍̐̈́͊̇̌̑͆̊͝͝,̵͕̬͉͚̖̫̙̐͑̎̏͌̈́̔́͛͘͝͝ ̶͔̯̞̂̈́͌̀̆͊͂̉̄̀̕1̴̪̻̗̫̞̱͎̝̼̩̞͚͉͉̀͜9̷̨̛̮̥̬̦̙̙̼̰̪̝̔͆7̷̨̡̜̻̰̦̖͚̊́̎͜8̷̛̛̥̳͓̺̘̈́͛͌̉̈́̄͆̒̿̚͝ͅ:̶̡͖̜͎͙͚̱̳̱͓͐͂ ̴̡̯̞̹͙͓̥̘͇̲̪̘̰͓̽̍̄̀̀͗͊̀̊͑̕R̴̡̢̳̙̪̿̐̊͋͆̑̔̀o̵̫͐͂͋̔̎̋̑̂̍͌̌̈́̔͝î̷̙̦̺̮̓̆̑͗̽͗̚̚_̷̡͇̖̼̣͉̌͗F̶̢̙̼͙͇̞̳̞̲̥̻̲͂̃̓́a̴̭̺̋b̸͍̘͇̹̪̱͓̳̝͔͉̩̻̾͒́ͅį̷̛͎̙̜̹͔̤̩̞̹̼͋͗̉͐̈́̏̒̐ͅţ̶͓͈̹̭͖̲̞͖͎̱͎̑̒̊̀̃̓͋͝ó̴̧͍̼͛̎́.̷͓̬͍͕̖̥̗͕̬͍̭̭̻͍͐͛̾͐͛̾ͅm̸̨̻̗͇͈̊͗̅͆͑̉͊͂́̀̒̎̓̚͝p̸̡͉̟͎̤͗̂̐̀̌̓́̑̌̍̆̄̅͠4̴̧̨̦̭̤̩͈̤̮̼̬͖̔̅̀̑͐͆̏́̈́̍̑̀̚̚͜͝

The camera turns on, and Matt, Safiya, and Rosanna are piled net to each other on a couch. They look exhausted, like they're minutes from falling asleep, but a small half-smile plays on Safiya's lips when she sees the camera.

"This again?"

Matt shrugs, careful not to jostle Ro, who is leaning heavily on his arm. The sort of lounge that they're in isn't too large, but the seven YouTubers fit in the room quite well.

"Roi and Nikita are in the challenge," Matt says. The taller man from earlier looks up at the mention of Nikita's name, but soon goes back to sitting silently on a chair in the corner. Safiya looks apologetically his way, something brewing in the back of her eyes. "We don't know when they're going to come back."

Rosanna stills a bit at his side, tensing slightly. It's obvious that they're all thinking about how only one of the two would make it back to the lounge.

Safiya ends up being the one to bring them out of the awkward silence. "So we're heroes now, huh? Not going to lie, I'm not really seeing the appeal."

The joke is half-hearted and tinged with exhaustion, but Matt smiles a bit anyways. "Can't say I disagree. I could really do with some actual food right now."

"What, you don't like popcorn?"

"No, just vegan hotdogs."

They fall back into the quiet, sitting awkwardly in front of the camera. Matt's head ducks down again as he absently plays with his badge, a dark shadow over his eyes. Rosanna watches him worriedly before something seems to register in her mind, and she smiles.

"Hey Matt," she whispers, poking at him until he looks up at her. "I think being a hero isn't so bad."

He grimaces. "Really?"

She nods, leaning against him. "Mmhm. We saved someone today. That felt pretty good."

Matt sits a little straighter, staring at Rosanna. She meets his gaze with a determined smile, her brown eyes ablaze even through the phone footage.

"We did, didn't we?" He smiles a little. "Roi and Teala."

"We made the antidote. We saved them from the Snake Woman's poison. We kept them alive." Safiya watches them from the side with a neutral expression, but her eyes are soft. Rosanna presses on. "I think that's pretty worth it."

Matt smiles wider, before his eyes catch on something on the opposite wall and it begins to falter. "But Roi's still out there, in the challenge. We couldn't save them permanently."

"We couldn't," Rosanna agrees. A tired sigh escapes her lips and for a moment, she sounds defeated. But then she shakes her head a bit, shoulders pulled back in determination. "But we did our best, didn't we?"

Matt watches her quizzically, his eyes clear windows into the turmoil in his mind. In the end, he pulls Rosanna closer, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa.

"Yeah, we did."

\---

O̸̳̟̭̖̠̻̮͎̹̺͕̼̗̎͠ͅc̵̛̭̯̦̺̻͚̤̰̀̃̐̽͋̍͘ẗ̸̢̗̰̼͉̣̳̝͚͉́́̆̅ͅǒ̸̡̧̥̙͙͔̻̣͈̙̊͐̈́̉͑͜b̴͉̻̅̈ẽ̴̛̻̖̼̥̝̺̈͑̑̅r̷̛͙͎̠̣̖͈͔͍͔̩̮̩̹̓̔̋͌̒͛̄̇̈́͌ͅ ̸̛̬͎̟͛̒̎̂̈́̐͠1̷̘̬̩̜̣̳͚͑̅͋̎̍̀͒͊̾̎̎͝3̵̢̯͎̩̻̫̐͗͛́̀̓̑̿̋̓̏̅͊̇̚t̶̲̤͇͔̥̯̘̝̫̙̩͉̭́̑͐̈́̀͊̓̆̈́͌̚͠h̸͈̀͑̇͒̓̈́̚͠,̶̢̢̝̫̬̩̟̤̠̖̊͒͒̅͒̈͆̂ ̶̡̲̰͎͕̻͎̟̹͚͔͇̯́͆̇̉́͜͜1̴͕̩̰́͛̾̌͑̈́̚9̷̥͕̬͖́̄̆͌̓̈̒̄̕͠͠7̴̡̦̲̹̦̫̬͕̣̣͗̒8̵̢̢̢̰̹̯͍̻̥̞̳̰̽̏̈́͒:̸͕͚̜͎̬̖̈́̔͌͆̈́̐͆̽̍͑͝͝ ̵̧̭̠̘̜͈̺́̇ͅr̵̡̼͉̲̭̹̬̙̳̟̠̼̤̓̾̈̅̄́̔͊̔̽̆̕o̵̜̣̻̖̻̗͇͍̰̦̻̤̯̦̱͘.̷̨̜̌̎͗̈̓̇̐͗̈̕̚͝͝m̴̛̭̩̤͚͙̯̬̣̟̥͛̈͊̆̐̓̍̏͜p̸̦̭̼̠̺̰̼̹͙̑4̵̳̝͎͇̩͍̕͜ͅ

There's no friendly banter, no hushed conversation, no awkward beginnings and fumbling with the camera when the video begins. The lighting is decent, for once, and the camera is set up and perfectly aligned to Rosanna sitting alone at a table.

It's surprisingly eerie.

"Heya Stephanie!" Ro's smile is as bright as ever, but her eyes are different, darker. She seems to be sitting a bit stiffer than earlier, and her hat is just slightly off-center. A dark-haired woman walks in from off-screen, giving Rosanna a regretful look.

"You don't have much time, Ro."

She wilts, falling back into herself. "I know. I just have to do this."

The woman smiles sadly. "It's alright. We can wait a few more minutes."

She leaves, and Rosanna looks back the camera. There's a newly haunted sense to them, fearful with a layer of barely kept calm.

"I'm entering the next challenge," she whispers, a shiver making her shake for a few seconds. Her gaze is determined when she looks into the camera. "Against Teala."

The Jet-Setter fumbles a little with her jacket, awkwardly fidgeting with the edge. She looks like a child in over her head, but her eyes bear the wisdom of someone much older than she looks.

"It was bound to happen," she says. The words aren't bitter or cold, just resigned. "I knew from the beginning, and I think Matt did too. I'm strong, but I'm not the strongest. I'm smart, but I'm not the smartest. My greatest strength is my heart, and Everlock is the most heartless place I've ever seen."

She looks up towards the camera. Even with the threat of imminent doom on her shoulders, she holds a dignified, even gaze towards the phone, love filling her dark brown eyes. "I wish I could've seen more. I wish that I could've met little Ollie, that I could've held Molly's baby. I wish that we had more time for double dates, that I could bake another cake, that I could spend more time being alive."

"I'll try my best, of course. But the chances that I make it out tonight are slim. I wish I could've made it farther than this but-" tears begin to gather at the corners of her eyes, but the smile remains ever present on her face. "I think that I've brought happiness to people. I think that I've learned, that I've loved, that I've carved out some sort of spot in the universe. I think that I've lived a happy life, albeit a short one. Maybe that's enough."

She wipes at her eyes. The dark-haired woman from earlier comes back, giving Rosanna a quick hug around the shoulders. "Are you ready?"

Ro nods, pausing as she reaches for the camera to shut it off. "Bye Stephanie. Tell Take care of Matt for me, ok? I love you."

The camera goes dark, and she's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a little behind with replying,, whoops. Thank you to everyone who's left kudos or commented!! Love y'all!!


	5. October 13th, 1978: goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this one is A Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least the camera would be good for one thing.

O̷͙͚͓̪̳̩̟̞̲͚̮͑̅̿̆͋̅̐̇̾͘͝ͅc̵̨͙̫̘͍̙̱͈̘̪͔̗̖̯̀̈́̐͋͑̈̇̋̿̈́̍͐̈́̀ţ̴̡̤̪̰͍̱͖͛́͆̐̂̅̈́̓̂̀́̾͘͝ȯ̵͉̞̩͎̹͈͎̱̉̎̍̒̿͂̉̋̀̿b̴̭̳͎̤͕̹̳̳͔̭͐̓́̈̊̈́͝ę̴̝͉̺̖̊̾̉̐͆͂̕͘͜͠͝͝r̶̲̩̘͍̩̹͓̗̣̙̝̄̌͊́̎ ̶̧̝̭͖̦̥͙̮̺̼̞̳̓̉̐̔͂͋̽̾̿̾͝͠1̶͈̲̏̒͊͗̓̒͆̂͝͝ͅ3̵̡̗̠͔̳̞̩̅̑̒͊̎̿́͆̐̊́̈́̇̚͜t̸̞̺̻̑̆̔̇̄h̴̗͓̥͍̯͙̄͐̽̒,̴͉̠̬̟̦̜͍̯̋̈́͆ ̸̨̛͙͕̜̹͚̞͕̤̩̘̝̄̏͊̄͒̕̚͜1̷̧̠̖͍͂͂9̷̢̨̙͙̞͖̱̖̖̝̲̫͓̺̓͒̍̏̐̄͌̊̽̋͒͒̃̕7̷̛̹͖́̋̊̐̂̆̐̈̾͐̾̅͠͠8̸̛͍̯͎̙̹͚͎͚͚͇:̴̧̹̣̣͈͉̥̦̼͉͗ͅ ̵̧̨͎̥̪̘̦̄̅̈́͗̓́͘̕̚͝͠͝ͅT̴̲̿̇̃ȩ̶̟̥͓̩̗̻̣̼͐͘ạ̸͍̲̼̬̀̓̋͝l̶̖̯̳͓͔͇̞̖̮̞̺̲̩̰̯̍̀̽̂̈̏̑̂̔̓̀̊̑̄̊ă̸̢̨̹͔̘͇̻̤̭̝͕̹̯̯͋͗͊̈͒̓͘̚.̶̢̹̤͍̥̲͙̫͈̙͈̜͚̐̆̈́̆̋́̎̆͘̚͜ͅm̶̨͔̳̗̘̪̟͂͌̾̑̽̔́͋̎́̓̅͝ͅp̸͎̔̏̉́̾͌̾̑͂͗̄͝4̴̜̗͎̲̯͚̣͕͍͍͚̮͔̤̬̊͝

 

Ro's voice fills the speakers.

_(She's still here.)_

"Matt, give me the camera real quick, ok? You're not holding it steady."

The camera turns onto Ro, who is tucked neatly in between Matt and Safiya. Matt's arm wraps around her shoulders, clutching tightly at the dark green of her jacket, while Safiya watches the camera with hard eyes. Rosanna's smile is small and tight, and though her shoulders have fallen in relief, something bitter and broken echoes in the hollowness behind her words.

"Hi Stephanie." Her voice is shuddery, all of them looking only one wrong step from falling apart. Safiya gives a look towards the camera that edges on a glare, playing absently with a thread on her sweater. Matt's hair seems even messier than before. "I made it back."

If anything, Matthew seems to tense further, even with the lightness of his voice. "Of course you did."

"You're a fighter," Safiya adds. "You did great."

The room is quiet. Nobody mentions the name that Ro had said earlier _(Teala, perhaps)_ and how whoever she was, she didn't make it back to the lounge. They don’t mention the fatigue weighing on their shoulders, the fact that even surviving deems a compliment now that so many people have died.

"Five artifacts left," Safiya says, her voice almost too quiet to be heard. Her shoulders rise, clenched in a muddled mixture of anger and grief. "Just five more."

_Five more people to die._

Their breaths are loud and heavy through the phone's speakers, harsh crackles of sound that break the silence of the room. Even the others, wherever they are, have fallen silent.

Matthew looks over at Safiya. "We have to get ready." The time limit they have hangs like an ever present weight above their heads, their frail shoulders left to play Atlas as they hold up the hopes of surviving the next hour. Ro buries her face into his jacket, hands clenched. Behind the glasses that cover them, Matt's eyes fill with pain and anger and an urge to protect, somehow all conveyed by a shadow passing over the deep browns of his eyes.

"Another minute," Safiya whispers. Her voice is hoarse. "Another minute and then we'll go."

The room is still bitterly silent when the camera clicks off.

\---

Ŏ̷̝̐̓͛͂̿̌̎̽͠ç̶̩̻̰̫͎̼̈́̓͒͆̈̑̀̚͘͜͠t̸̡̨̢͈̱͍͔͚̣̪̻̟̄̓o̶̠̺͙͍̩͕̽̉̂̿͌͒́̌͗͝b̵̭̩̼̥̻͚̫̤̲̃͂͜e̴̢̪̥̯̦̱͗̔͒͑̀́̋͐̑̈̍͂̅͘r̸̢̜͇̱̞̜̜̯̹͋̾̓ ̴͔͕̯̼̼̭̱̅̀̊1̷̡͔͍̥̠͕͇̯̥̲̻̭̬̫̈́3̸̭̥̲̦̖͉̩͓͗̽̿̄͛́̋t̶̢̼̩̄͗̔̈̄̃̋́͌̒͗̽̚͜h̵̛͎̥̪͙͖̳͓̦̬̼̎͂͝,̵̛̲̉̉̅ ̷̢̠̩̗̘̱̰̩̭͙̻͖̥̬͙̅̋͆1̴̡̝̯̥̞̲͕͚̮͕̗̠͕̙̗̍̊͒͝9̵͉͓͈̰̀̊͋͛̚7̴̢̨̻͕̝̭̀̃͐̚8̸̧̼͚̰̫̩͙̇̽͐̂͊̏̋͆̄́̇̑̍̉:̴̧̤͈̼͙̗̥̠̝̞͕̿̏͋͛͒̓̄͌̔̽̽́̃́͝ͅ ̷̧̨̨͍̫̙͎̹̘̗̯͉̺̤͈̀͒̄̏͛̄͑ǵ̶̗̞̲͕̊̎͂̈́̌̒͂̀͝ö̸̡̨̠̜̬̪̻͖̟̩̳̙̪̯́̅̊̉o̵̡̟̗̙̫̖͌͌͆̚̚d̷̡̛͍͍̩͛b̴̲͚̪̦̪̜͈͚̩̪̞̠̠͗̓́͗͠y̴̧̦͌́͗̈́͂͂́͘e̴̤͒̇̂̾́̌̌̒̚͠͝͝ͅ.̵̡̝͖̤̱͇͔̲̉̍̆̌̂̃̍͊̅̈́̍m̵̡̧̢̫̳̭̣͚̙̺͎̬͉̪͈̋̄̄̂̀̑̈́̀͛̂̐͠p̷͉͕̹̮͔̞̔̒̚4̸̺̲̖͚̰̯̰̪̿̆͐͂̏͌̚ͅ

 

The setting of the camera is hauntingly familiar.

Everything is set up, staged in a way that only promises bad news. There's the dark-haired woman from earlier again, her eyes speaking of sorrows that she cannot convey as she fiddles the camera, eyebrows pinched in confusion. She looks down at the device with an undiscernible emotion written in the shadows under her eyes and the pinched tightness in her lips, and then she breathes out a sight and leaves the frame.

A sharp burst of static screeches through the speakers, the screen glitching and then flooding with a sea of black and white, the screeching sounds through the speakers rising in pitch and volume. The screen turns fully white, overwhelmingly bright with what once might have been words garbled and broken in the background, before the entire file seems to shut down and the screen goes black for a heart-stopping couple seconds.

Then just as fast as it started, it's over. The screen snaps back to the video, only now a figure stares back at the camera from behind the desk, tired brown eyes and a cynical smile centered in the middle of the frame.

_No._

"Hey, Stephanie," Matt says. He wears a slight self-deprecating smile, eyes slightly red from tears that had been hastily wiped away. A garish red headband brushes back his hair from his forehead, and without his sunglasses he looks even more vulnerable than he had before. Even despite the small smile on his face, his hands shake on the desk, and he pulls them away to gesture at the ridiculous outfit he's wearing. "Like what you see?"

He laughs at that, sounding so tired and so broken as the laughs fall away into tired sobs. He squeezes his eyes tight, trapping whatever tears may have been gathering within them, and takes a moment to steady his breathing before opening his eyes again. So close to the camera, it's obvious how much they've lost in the last few hours, how every death had broken his usual infallible spirit a little bit more.

He takes a shuddery, quiet breath that rustles through the speakers, and as suddenly as the vulnerability came onto the screen it leaves. He sets his jaw and pulls his shoulders back, plastering on a typical livestream smile and a forcibly upbeat voice.

"I mean, it's definitely not my favorite outfit of the lot. Of course, kudos to them, maybe I'll die of embarrassment before the challenge begins and evade the physical exercise all together." He fiddles awkwardly with the edge of his t-shirt, a hand moving up to tug through his hair. "Guess my lack of working out is actually going to be the death of me. Should've listened to high school health class."

"I'm sorry; this probably sounds pretty darn inconsiderate. You're probably there listening to my goodbye video and I'm making a dumb joke about high school." He looks at the camera, _really_ looks in an unguarded way usually reserved for private moments far far away from the channel, for late nights snuggled against each other or lazy mornings lying in bed or those in-between moments where his eyes would fill with such unadulterated adoration that her breath catches in her throat. "I guess we had a pretty good run, didn't we Steph? Wish it could've been longer, but I guess we don't always get what we want."

"I'm going up against Manny. Don't hold this against him, it's not his fault he was voted in and not his fault that he's about three times my size." He cracks a small smile, tears beginning to pool in his eyes. "Nobody told me how hard this video was going to be, gosh darn it. Goodbye videos are _so_ overrated. Sorry, Steph. Tell Skip that I'm sorry he couldn't get more pats. Tell Chris and Jason and Amy and everyone else at the office that I'm so grateful for all they've done for the channel, that I've loved everything we've made together and that I'm sorry this is the way things have to end. Tell my parents that they couldn't have prevented this, that I'm so sorry that I can't be with them for the next few years and that I'll be waiting for them, wherever I end up. Tell them all that I love them."

Tears drip down his face as a watery laugh falls from his lips. "Stephanie, _you have bewitched me body and soul and I love and I love and I love you._ " He looks up at the _Pride and Prejudice_ reference, laughing despite himself. The dark-haired woman from earlier lingers in the back edge of the frame, watching him with mournful eyes. "I'm so sorry that this is where we've ended up, Stephanie Cordato-Patrick. I wish I could come back with you, that I could be with you, that we could be together one last time. I wish that I could've held my son, that I could've seen him grow up and talk and go to school and _everything_. I wish that I could be with you."

"Take care of yourself, Stephanie. And take care of - Oliver. Oliver Julian Patrick." He reaches up to the camera, a hand cupping around the side of it. "You're the strongest woman I know. You'll be ok, Stephanie. I promise."

"And for Ollie, that is, if you go with that," he brushes away the tears, trying to smile. "Sorry I couldn't be there for you, little buddy. I guess your dad should've listened to mom, huh? That's usually the case. Listen to Stephanie, it's usually a good idea." His hand next to the camera reaches to lightly touch the screen, splayed fingers brushing against the screen. "Oliver, whatever you're doing, I promise that I'm proud of you. I'm gonna try my hardest to come back home, but I'm a pasty old nerd so it's not looking too hot. For future reference, try to avoid any theoretical death games and the like, ok? The hunger games aren't as cool as they sound. And for all that it's worth, kid, I love you. I love you so much. See you someday, alright? I'll be waiting for both of you."

The dark-haired woman walks over slowly, having sensed the end of the one-sided conversation drawing near. She touches his shoulder lightly, eyebrows drawn in concern and badly hidden grief. "You ready, Matthew?"

Matt draws in another steadying breath, giving the camera one last longing look over his shoulder. "Sure, Calliope. Let's get this over with."

\---

 

The camera turns on by accident.

It's tucked in a rolling, changing darkness, one that shifts to a murky green to grey to black and back again. Grating sounds travel through the speakers like a tissue rubbed against the mic, loud and rustling and consistent as the phone moves. It's been tucked inside what is probably a pocket, unable to pick up anything but the rustling of fabric and muffled voices beyond.

There's shouting, a lot of it. High-pitched squeals of delight and muttered complaints, keening cries of distress and so many other sounds all overlapping over each other in a cacophony of emotion. Behind it all, a foreign voice rumbles, deep and menacing and heartless.

"You ready to die?"

It's loud and it's grating; it's thunder as it rolls and makes the earth shake on its foundations. Somebody screams in frustration and grief and desperation as another voice laughs in relief. The phone bounces against something and a thump rattles through the speakers, the roaring male voice from earlier deepening and lengthening into a snarling cry.

"You're gonna die!"

Another voice cries out above the madness, desperate and pained and _scared_. It's awful and keening and familiar, a high-pitched cry that's been heard dozens of times in horror livestreams and hundreds more while replaying FNAF to look for more clues only it's a thousand times worse. Above it all, Matt screams and cries and his voice is hoarse with fear, his words tripping over themselves and speeding up and somehow louder than the ever rising din.

"Look for the coin," and he's fading, moving farther and farther away from the camera but the mic still picks up the pained struggling for breath with every word he speaks. "Look for the Lazarus coin!"

The phone is still moving far away, fast and desperate and sobs rip through the speakers and a beat later a scream echoes through the air, full of fear and pain and ringing, _ringing_ like it'll never end, a crescendo of suffering that blasts away whatever sounds had been lingering and then-

Nothing.

The sobs come faster, uglier, and a hand scrabbles over the camera and pulls the phone out in a jerky sort of motion, dizzying colors filling the screen. There are frantic voices, blurry shapes and someone screaming to turn off the phone, to turn off the _goddamn phone_ and the crying grows louder and through it all Matt's voice never comes.

Someone finally finds the button and the speakers go blissfully silent.

\---

̵̱̙͔̲͎͎̻̜͖̮̦́̅̓̽̋̇̋̎̐͂̿͠ͅƠ̵͍̤̼͚̲̾́̍͗̓̅̽̉͂̚̕c̷̛̦͚̗͍͎̤͈̞̦̲͋̓͆͊͛͐̑͌̑̚ͅṱ̷̙̩̺̥͖̹͍̲̆̓̓ơ̴̲̙͙̬̫̜͇̿̊̎̃̑̅̾̒̔͘͝͝͠ͅb̵̢̛̛̘͉͇͉͖͓̟͕͖̟͔̥̹̓͗̏̽̍̔́̃̑̆̀͘͝e̵̝̣̠̙͗r̴̢̘̹͎̮̦̰̻͉̠̽̑̄͋ ̸̛̛͍̟̏́͒́͒͂ͅ1̵̛̰̭̭͈̄̓͒̂̔̾̂͒̅͊̍̕͝3̷̧̢̢̡̖̝̰͎͉̝̖̆ţ̷̘͔̰͎̻̪̗͕̤̘̂͒̍́͝͠ͅh̴̛͍̠̏͆͌́̋̈́̒̆͂͂̋̽,̸̧̬̹͋͒͒͑̄͆͑ ̴̨̢̱̟̭͓͚̥̻̮̒̔̌̏̇̋̈̄͘̕͝ͅ1̵̩͈̻͙̙͍͔͉̬̤̳̄̾̀̅̆͐̈̇́̆̆͝9̷̜̩̗̰̘̏ͅ7̷̢̞̖̲͖̠͎̳͂̾͘8̴̧̱̟̲̙͚̪̟͉̍̅̒:̴̨͖͈̲̩̺̙̣̝̳̼̣̃̎̈́͊̈̉ͅ ̵̣̩͕̺̆͛̇̊̊͋̆̑͗̉̓̒̚͝͠ş̵͓͉̺͉̝̖̼̼̦̭̣̼͖̍̍̽͜͝ä̸̤̤́͠f̶̞̪͊͂͛̃̓͑̍͘̚ͅì̸̺̅̿̕ỷ̴̧͓͉̼͉̼͎̳̩̥̟̎͋̈́̅͝â̴̹̭͇š̵͎͇̠̘͗̐̋̌̀̓̎̑̈́͘͠_̵̛̭̙̈́͐̈́͊̀́̈́̒͆̐͝͠m̵̢̻̮̜̌̓̍̀̓̊̑͌̈̌̀̚͝ẻ̶̛͗͆͛̾͐͛́͜s̴̛̛͙͙͈̜̰͊́͑ͅs̸̢̧͈̖̞̭̙͖͇̣̫͂a̶̛̛̯̗̪̭͔̖̞̺̯̋̔͗̇̈́͘͜͝͝g̵̢͔̠̮̭͓̰͚̹̳̟̟̮̲̦̈́̈̒̃̆̕ȅ̷̛̖̞̊̃͆͐̌̉̎͑̒̇̽̚.̵̡̡̛͖̮̫̫̙̰̙̻̞͒̂̽̂̽̎m̶̡̧̗͎̘̹̣̫̮̖͕̺͕͔̆̅͋̈p̷̞͓̼̮͙̩̳͖͙̩͙̊̓͑̒͋̈́͂̔̅́͘͜ͅ4̶̡̡̠̖̝͍̖͔͚̖͚̭̖̘̄̃̋͊̈́͠͝͠͝

It is quiet.

"Hi, Stephanie."

Safiya's there, looking more tired than ever. She has dried tear tracks on her cheeks, a storm raging in her eyes. Youtubers lie splayed out all behind her, Rosanna still curled in on herself next to a troubled looking Joey. Safiya's voice is low but a stubbornness lingers in the way she sets her jaw, her shoulders tight and held back.

"I'm sorry I never got to formally meet you. I only knew Matthew for a day but he is-" she chokes, quietly reorienting herself. "Was a good man. I'm so sorry for your loss."

She falls silent, Rosanna's soft sniffles echoing from the back of the room. Safiya looks back up, eyes blazing. "I'll get this back. I'll get _her_ back," she whispers, shooting a subtle look at Ro's tiny frame. "It's what he would've wanted."

She reaches to turn off the camera. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more for him." Her hands shake, and she ignores it. "He would've been a great dad."

\---

October 13th, 1978: unnamed_file1.mp4

Someone turns on the camera.

Whoever opened it just leaves it there, staring across the room. Nikita Dragun sits on a couch, one hand twisting through the locks of her wig, while the tall man (Manny?) fingers through vinyl records at his feet. Safiya watches around the room, turning every few minutes to look back at Rosanna, who's staring at what looks like a harp as if it holds all the answers in the universe.

Matthew's still not there.

The video continues, plugging away one minute at a time. Several times, a hand reaches over as if to stop the video before pulling back. Nikita and Manny have a hushed conversation or two, and Safiya tries to talk to Rosanna to no avail. They're all waiting for something.

"Joey, what's going on?" Manny's voice is harsh, almost unkind. Something like hopelessness splinters behind his words.

Behind the camera comes a voice. "I don’t know."

The taller man slumps into himself, glossy lips pulling into a disappointed grimace. "What are you even filming for? This harp is faulty."

The camera moves in a sort of up-down motion. "I don't know." A beat passes, and if anything the taller man only looks more angry. "Please work."

“It’s not gonna work,” Ro speaks for the first time since the video started. She's tucked into her jacket, shrunken into it like it can protect her from whatever's out there. There's a sort of tiredness in the messiness of her hair, the slump of her shoulders, and when she looks up her eyes are lifeless and dull. "Is it?"

"I did exactly as it said," the voice pleads. “I stroked it three times, and I thought of who I wanted to bring back.” Everyone else in the room stares back at the camera, tired resignation lingering in the defeated hollows under their eyes. The voice grows quiet, splintering under the gaze of the guests left. “I don’t know why they’re not here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So u h 
> 
> Yeah 
> 
> (Thanks to everyone who has commented, kudoed, or read this fic!!)


	6. October 13th, 1978: mrs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> matt, ro, safiya 
> 
> One rises, and the others fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a rollercoaster, guys. All good things must come to an end.

Ơ̴̗̏̎̾́́͘c̸̢͔̘̻̻͙̩̭̬̐̈́̓̉̂̿̆̋̔ť̶̲̯̦̥̈́̒̂̏́̐̒̈́͘͘͠ò̶̧͕̟͈̦̲͙͕͌̋̓̀̈̑̾̓̃͜͝b̷̰͊͂̏͋̓ȅ̷̪̣̔r̶͙̪̖͖͍̠͉̬͔̹̆͆̋͐̊̓̀̋́̿͑̈́͂ ̴̨̢̡̬̦͕͉͈̞̐̔̌̿̍̒̊̓̐̋̌̚͝͝͝1̵̨͙̭͎͎̝͎̞͚̱̘̘͗̀̓̀͂͘͠3̴̢̛̛̝̟̜̙̤̰̦̫̣̭̦̣̅́̄̊̏̈́͜͝t̸̜̗̭̦̠͇͇̝̝͝ͅͅh̶̜̖̲͇̓̓͑͗̆͊̑̕,̵͉̯͉̟̱̘͆̔̚̕ ̸̟̱̟̺͔̪͉͎͎̪̔̄͜1̶͓̲̳̮̯̃̆͗͐͌̀̋͐̃̄̂̕͜͝͠͝9̴̡̡̼̩̩͍̰͔̲͎̳͎̍̀̿7̴̢̖̫̘̗̳͖̣͕͈̞̮̆̽̽͒̾͌̀̅̕͝8̴̧̠̰̻̱̈́̈́̉̿̊̌̊̂̈́͝ͅ:̶̘̥̜̝̬̘̘̥̺̳̥̳̉͌̆͘͠ ̶̳͓̤̪͓͔̱͇̞̜̯̅͆͗̓͐u̸̗̻͚̕n̶͍͍̩͕̭̳̫͉̺͈̤̪̘͊̇̆͜͝͝ͅṉ̴̀̿̏̄͛̅͛́̏͂́̓̑͘a̴̡̡̛͉̺̞̟̦̮̱͐͊̀̈́̈̽͘ͅm̸̨̡̛̩̤̬̹̖̯͈̪̮̼̎̑̏̑͋̓e̴̢̨̧͈̠̮̳͒̏̑̈́͒̃͆́̆̅͜d̶̰̙̮̳͉̠̯̞̞̬͙͙̃̀ͅͅ_̷̤͑̽̿̄̑̌̋̀͐̄́̾̌̀̑f̴̭͓̌̊̆̚į̵̰̬̹͈̱̯̬͖͚̯͎̉͒͌̌̒̈́͝l̴̙͛̐̈́̓͘ḝ̵̧̜̈̀̎͋̔̈͂2̴̣̮͚̞̗̮̽̉͒.̶̧̛͉̰͍̊͗̅́̐̿̒̽͛̋̾̉͘͝m̸̨̧̡̢̰̮̫͓̪̖̯̲̰̊̊p̶̺̹̖̻̖͕̂͛̓̓͊͂̿4̴̧̰͚̯̥̳̖̬̳̝̤̱͋́͌̃͜ͅ

 

“-my God.”

The camera rushes up, swinging to focus on a door in the corner in the room. Not much time has passed since the last video, but there’s a new briefcase with papers strewn all over the floor. Around the room, youtubers spring to their feet, all staring at the door.

“Please let this work,” the voice behind the camera whispers, so quiet that it’s barely heard through the speakers. In front, Rosanna watches with her hands clutched in tiny fists in front of her chest, Nikita standing off to the side with her shoulders drawn in apprehension, wound up and ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

The door opens.

“Matt!” Joey’s voice is far too loud behind the camera, but the sight of the harried detective as he half walks, half stumbles inside the room is too much of a relief to care. Excited voices echo across the room and he is guided to the couch where he looks, unseeing, at the guests staring back at him.

“It worked,” Safiya’s voice is light and almost giddy, cracking at the sheer relief of something going right. The camera is knocked over a bit as she presumably gives Joey a hug. “It worked!”

“I’m so happy,’ Joey says, and maybe it’s in the lilt of his voice, in the way a throaty chuckle leaves his lips, in the way joy filters through his words like sunbeams held carefully in outstretched hands that for the first time, it sounds like he actually believes it.

The blood slowly makes it way back into Matt’s face. He’s still haunted by something, a sort of darkness that lingers in the tired droop of his eyelids and the way he flinches whenever anyone gets too close to his neck, but there’s too much love in the way he holds Ro in his arms to make that sadness overcome him. A small but genuine smile breaks out over his face, his eyes brown and warm and light for the first time in hours. The two don’t talk, but as they’re holding each other up like they’re the only thing that will matter ever again, something almost like hope filling the quiet between them. 

He looks up at the camera, seemingly registering it for the first time, and a brilliant grin manages to make its way onto his face. He stares at it, Ro still tucked under his chin and Safiya making her way to his side, and he mouths “I love you” at the lens.

\---

Ǫ̷͕̦̰̹̠̼͍̯̞͋̇̏͋̍̚c̷̟͐ţ̴͔̬̱̗̝̠̫̹̖̔̋̈́̌̃̈́ͅọ̸̡̡͇͍̥̱̩̟̭͕̙̹̱͐̓̏͜͝͠b̵̢̡̛̼͚̗̰͍͓̖͓̣̻̯̎̉̈́͒̆͊̕e̵͇͉̓̆̄̓̏̒̋̑̈́͊̄̇̈́͝͠r̶̺̲͈̓́̿̊̎̐̈́͐͋̚ ̴̹̓̌̐̾͗̍̓͘͜͝1̵̩̬͉̰̬̻̦̹̺̙̝̞͗͌͂̇̒̅̂̈́̓͑̆͐͜͝͠3̵̛̞̝͓͙̼̳̠͍͂̄͗̅̃ţ̵̛̘̩͔͍̘̦̳͍̹̮̉̔̐̍̈́͑̕̚͜h̸͙̱͈̲̬̄̆̀͝ͅ,̷̡͇̥̠̤̘͑̉͘ ̸̧̦͉̖͇͉̗̩̦͖͌́̾̎̉́ͅ1̴͇̔͆́̇̈̊̀̓̏̚̚͠͝͝9̴̟̆̀͆̑̒͗͊̓ͅ7̴̺̯̘̹̤͖̬͇̲̬͈͔͎̟̉̿̓́̌͆͐́̕͝͝͝ͅ8̷͇͙̜̼̘̼̱̽́͘:̶̲̜̙̇̈́̔̒̾̉̓̃̕ ̷̺͔̱̟̰̯̙̜̣͉̯̱̅́̂͊̀́͒̈̄̅̀s̴̡̡̧̥̫̺̲͍̼̰̩̼̱̹͋̒̎̿̃͒̉̓͒͜͝ä̴͙̭̭̝̝̜̯͇́̑̓f̴̡̟̪̾i̶̪͚̣̝̰̥̺̇͂̾̉͑̈́̿̔̈͘̚̚͝y̴̢̟̫̲͓̗̬̯̑͊́͝͝a̸̛͈̟̙̫̿͘.̷͕͛̓͌͊́͗͐̉̆̈́̕̕͜m̵̮̰̝̪̥̐́̿̏̇̅͛͘͠p̸̫̹͉̝̱̠̭͖͛̑̆̋͒̄̉͐̈́́̚̕͜͝͝4̵̢̡̧͚͔̥͙̘͖̲͔̹̈́̈̌͋͝ͅ

“Really, Matt?”

“We’re waiting, right?” Matt still looks tired, a haunted look in his eye that never quite left him even after Everlock lingering across his face, but he smiled nonetheless at Safiya by his side. The three of them were sitting together, again, presumably during another one of the challenges.

“Yeah,” Safiya’s voice was soft, fond but sad and almost guilty. She looked across the room, away from the camera, her teeth pulling aimlessly on her bottom lip. “Waiting.”

“I want to go home,” Ro’s voice came from off to the side. She looked so tired and so small, tucked in her jacket and leaning heavily against the sofa cushions. Her lips pulled into a tight sort of half-frown as she looked across the room as well, an unreadable look on her face.

“You guys did so well, y’know.” Matt smiles tiredly, but he too looks off camera. “I want to go home too. Steph’s probably worried sick.”

“Tyler’s probably freaking out,” Safiya looks over at Matt again, smiling though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “He’s always been such the worrywart.”

“Do you think they’d forgive us?”

Ro’s voice is quiet. The other two snap back to look at her, but she keeps staring at the wall, shoulders tense and drawn up to her ears. “If they could see us again, if they could talk to us? Do you think they’d understand?”

“Oh Ro,” Matt says, pulling her in for a hug. Behind his shoulder, Safiya flinches like she’s been stung, a look of understanding passing between her and Rosanna that Matt never seems to notice. “None of this is your fault.”

“They’re dead, now. They have families and pets and people waiting for them, after this; you know that there’s probably a thousand tribute videos like there were last year and the year before, and it’s not fair!” Ro’s voice grows louder, starting from a whisper and ending in a strangled sort of half-yell. She seems to realize where she is, eyes snapping to the camera that Matt’s still holding half-heartedly, and she sinks back into the couch and squeezes her eyes shut. “Colleen- she, she was there and we-”

“It’s not your fault.” Matthew’s eyebrows are drawn, a determined hardness to his features. He shakes Rosanna gently until she looks up at him, and then turns to Safiya until she meets his gaze too. “This town, this game, it’s not what defines us as who we are. You’re more than this awful night, and it’s not your fault that you’ve done things to try and go home. You can be selfish too.”

“But do they know that?” It’s Safiya, this time. She matches Matt’s expression with a stubborn one of her own, arms folded over her chest. 

For a moment, Matthew falters. His eyes look far away and his frown deepens, but then he’s shaking off the grief in his frame like a dog shaking off water. “I don’t know. But I don’t blame Manny for what he had to do. We both just wanted to go home. And I got a chance, for some reason, to come back when the others didn’t, but I don’t think they can hold it against you for doing what you had to do to make it out of this place alive.”

Safiya looks almost like she wants to argue the point further, but the fight leaves her in an instant and she slumps down. They’re all so tired, hunger and sleep-deprivation and fear and grief sapping them of whatever energy they could have had, and without words to say Matt just pulls them all in for another hug.

“Thank you,” Ro says, her voice muffled behind Matt’s jacket. Matthew mutters something too quiet for the camera to pick up, but it makes Rosanna giggle quietly and sit just a bit straighter. Safiya smiles sadly, leaning against Matt’s shoulder.

“We’ll be ok, no matter what happens, alright?” Matthew looks at Safiya with this, matching her smile with one of his own. He doesn’t tell her that they’ll make it out, that they’ll survive. She seems to realize this and she nods, looking almost resigned.

“We’ll be ok,” she says, and it’s a promise somehow, that no matter who ends up winning and seeing their family again, they’ll hold this burden and this love close to their hearts. That somewhere, somehow, they’ll keep on going. 

“I wonder when Nikita and Manny will come back,” Ro says softly. They all wince at the thought, and Matt’s forehead creases in worry.

“Whoever’s coming back is going to be mad. I hope they’ll be able to keep on a straight head afterwards.”

“We’ll give them time,” Safiya says. “They deserve to mourn.”

The quiet lingers for a moment before Matt reaches for something, snapping back to whatever business they have to do. "Now's as good of a time as any," says Matt, placing a note on the lounge's center table.  _ "Carnival Master corrupted one of you." _

"This probably means someone recently became corrupted," Joey says from off-screen. Matt has a look on his face, the same one that he gets while playing a video game and is trying to fit together an off-hand comment from a character to something bigger in the story, the same look when he watches a movie and pauses it just to say that it doesn’t make sense.

"Matt," asks Rosanna, "do you feel funny?" She’s got a worried look on her face, meeting his eyes with a searching gaze.

Matt laughs nervously, forehead creasing as he tries to think. "Why do you think it's me?"

Before Rosanna can reply, heavy footsteps sound from outside the lounge. A humanoid figure enters the room, wearing a multifaceted mask currently staring with a static, furious expression. Its hands tighten around a large fishhook tightened to a wicked point, and the camera drops out of Matt’s hands.

"Omigod!" The speakers fill with static as people run around the room, the camera pointing down against the carpet. "Why is he here?"

"Shoot!" Matt’s voice has that all too familiar tinge of fear, high-pitched and panicked.

There’s more rustling, and then Rosanna’s voice. "Omigosh. Omigosh."

"Stay away! Why are you here?" Joey's voice is loud and angry and scared, only barely coherent as he fires off question after question. "We didn't go into the challenge! What happened to them?"

Someone screams.

“Safiya, no!”

Things begin to blur. People call Safiya’s name, Matt’s voice the loudest, and static grows ever louder in the phone speakers. Someone is crying, stuttered sobs echoing through the speakers, and someone else repeats “no,” a horrified drumbeat echoing behind the aftermath of a scream cut short.

A cheerful, echoing voice comes from across the room. "Thanks for playing at the Funhouse. See ya!" Deliberate footsteps leave and panicky breaths continue in its wake.

Moments later, rushed footsteps crescendo from the side. “Guys, we’re alive, we’re alive!”

“How did he get in here?” Joey sounds haunted, disbelieving. It’s all too easy to imagine his face: blue eyes wide and pupils dilated, face pale and contorted with terror. 

Rosanna’s voice comes next; she’s terrified and  _ angry _ , enraged like she hasn’t been for the entirety of this (awful, awful) night. “This is  _ not _ right!” 

“Guys, what happened?”

There’s a shocked intake of breath from the speakers. “Omigod!”

_ “Why is she dead?” _

Finally, Matt’s voice speaks. “You’re both here? How did you both survive?” His voice cracks in the middle; he sounds like the sky is falling and he can’t stop it. Whatever hope and false bravado he had tried to build up was gone, shattered, leaving fear and grief and something else in the hole it left.

“He told us," says Nikita slowly. Her words are almost airy, sharp, something dangerous and fierce and accusatory behind them, "that the winner of the challenge, whoever voted us in—"

"—was gonna die. And Nikita won." The male voice (Manny, it has to be Manny) is hard. Stiff, walled off, as distant as he can make it like if he doesn’t whatever’s behind it will crack. There’s a tightness to the way he speaks, a certain sort of guarded anger rising behind them. 

"You don't have to say it with such an attitude." When Matt speaks, he sounds calm. Composed. He has the air of a line he’d deliver in a particularly serious part of a FNAF theory episode, crisp, enunciated words like he’s reading for an audiobook. It’s a painting with the slightest of imperfections: the slightest bit of steel when he says  _ don’t _ , the way the sentence ends harshly, a blade with fingers wrapped around the hilt. 

"I think she deserved it.”

Nikita’s voice picks up, flippant. "I'm just saying—"

“Safiya  _ died! _ ” Matt explodes, loud and angry. His voice rips from his throat, all fire and fear and the tired weight of the five they’ve already lost. Matthew doesn’t get angry easily, doesn’t let people see how he’s feeling as he relies on years and years of theater to plaster on a smile and say that he’s fine, but this is different. This is hours of pain and sacrifice, dying in the most horrific of ways and coming back knowing he could die again; this is trying not to care about people that won’t make it out and then caring too much anyways. The storm inside of him bursts out in flashes of lighting and rolling thunder, sorrow making the rain that floods his breaths.

“Listen!” Nikita is all fire and smoke and flashes of light. “"She voted me to die, and she got what she deserved! If that was me, would you be acting the same?" 

“Shut up!” His voice cracks despite himself, and his breathing is ragged. They’re one wall of hurt and anger against another, walls of fire destined to burn each other out and leave nothing in their wake.

“Don’t you  _ dare  _ tell me to-”

"Enough fighting, okay?" It’s Joey’s voice, this time, through the speakers. He sounds shocked and scared but stern, trying desperately to hold everyone together. "This is exactly what they want us to do. They want us to be against each other! We need to come together! Otherwise, we're not gonna get out of here!"

Heavy footsteps rush towards the camera. A hand finds it lying on the ground and picks it up gingerly. Matthew stares down at the lens, sunglasses crooked on his face, and he locks eyes with the screen for a long second before turning it off.

As the screen goes black, a single tear falls from the corner of his eye.

\---

O̶̧̬̖̪̯̟̗͜͝c̶̡͉̽̓̾͂̈́ţ̵͔̤̬̻̮͚͊̋̀͊̀͋͂͗̌͂̚̕̚͝ơ̶̧̧̲̰̖͎͙͙̓̃̅̈̂͋̂̅̇͆̄̕̕͜ͅͅb̶̧̢̢̛̭̙̠͕̟̺̩̩͗̓̀́̂̈͌̾̍ȇ̵̳̖͈̬͖̦̝̗͜r̷̺͉̎͝ ̸̡̧͕͙̩̩̖̙̳͌͋͂̓̓͋̍̾͌͗̕͘͜͝1̶̛̫͇͖̥̫̣̰͂͒̉̆̐͆̒̍̑̋3̶̧͍̍̎́͠͠ţ̴̟̜͚̖͕͎͈͖̖̣̪̲͂̂̊́̑̇̊̚͝ḩ̵̲̼̦̺̙̀͒̐̀̍́̏̊̔̊̓̋̐̕̕ͅ,̵̬̰͎̦̯̬̎̾̇̐̓̏͊́̑̚ ̶̨̱̩̹̮̜̘̪̺̟̼̥͚̘̙̿̀1̸̢̢͎͚̳̠̝̼̳̻̖͔̰͇̓̃̈́̿́̅̀̕̚͝9̷̟͈̩̹̹̼̜̒͐̓̊̔͊̋̉̆̓7̴̠̂͠ͅ8̸̥̫͈̞̻̜̼͕̘̩͍̱̾̐̈́͋̂̚͜͠:̵͙̠̭̲̮͛̽͑̈́́̀͝ ̶̡͍̗͓͉̍́̎̎̂ų̶̬̣͛̐̓͛̽̓̇̀n̶̛̘͉̞̬͍̯̉̌̈̅̂̈́̔̈́́̾͜͜͠n̷̢̠̥̤͇̼͚̖̒a̶̫̩̒̽͝m̵̺͎͚̟̩̟̖̘͎͍̦̗͔͕̹͊̎̿͛́̈́́͘͝e̷̱̞͍̻̳̙͚̥̝̺̘͑͂̅͋͗͂̎̊̊̚͜͝͠d̷̖̲̺̮̱̣̫͕̙̗̜͐͆̉̈́͑̔̊̒̄̚͠_̵̧̢̣̦̩͇͈̞̈̇̍̾̃̎̾͒̍̈́͘͜͝͝͠f̸͈͔͓̤̩̼̩͌̀̀͑̎̈́̍̓̄̅̃̀ì̶̢̦͕͆͊̆̇͛̾̃̀̑̇̽̈́̂̕͜ļ̶̨̬̣̹̜̽͌́̍͑̍̔̐̅̀͊̽̌́̕ę̷̖̞͇͍̯̘̥̼͔̦̜̭̊̽́͝͠3̵͙̖͚͖͓̰̳̫̬͚͑͐́̒́̌̏̕̕͘.̴̡̞̲̠̩̀̍̓́̓͆͑ͅm̵̢̧̡̹̗͙̲̪̻͐͋̒̀̏͌͑̂̀̊̆͋̚̕͝p̵̨̫̱̗̪̤̮̭̜̩͕̜̘͇͂̇̾̓͛̈̈̿͛͛̀̕͝4̸̡̢̣̣̗̜̭͉̈͐̄̽͋͑͑͗̅̅̅̅̚ͅ

“Hi.”

The camera turns on to somewhere different. The lighting is even more yellow than the lounge, slightly dimmer and seemingly older. The camera’s set on an old counter, a flickering yellow bulb above it providing harsh, golden lighting to the rest of the room. 

Nikita sits in front of the camera.

“The lighting in here is terrible. I don’t know why Matt makes these.” At a first glance, she looks immaculate. Her makeup is still sharp, her hair still tied back. Where Matt’s clothes had become rumpled and a bit untidy, hers is as immaculate as when she first appeared. But even so, looking longer, things aren’t perfect. Her makeup isn’t quite smudged, but there are places where it just seems a little bit blurred around the corners of her eye. Her hair is still tied back, but the ends seem to be frayed, almost a little out of place. Her smile is just a bit too plastic, her eyes just a shade too dark. For a moment, she bites her bottom lip and it makes her look so unbearably young.

“I guess I’m making this as an apology, um, Stephanie right?” She looks over to the side, her eyebrows drawn. “I wasn’t the nicest to Matt tonight and I guess it wasn’t really, like, fair of me and stuff.” She looks directly at the camera.

“He’s in the challenge. They all are, right now. And I guess I’m alone and like, I have time to think for the first time in this  _ awful fucking night _ , and I was kinda a bitch.” She winces around the sentence as soon as it leaves her mouth. “Ah, sorry. I’m cursing a lot. Shit.”

“I guess I just couldn’t get him, y’know? Cause he’s this big time youtuber with big time friends, and he’s older and supposed to be more responsible and like, serious and shit than a beauty guru, but he comes here and he’s this total nerd? And that’s whatever, I guess looking back on it, cause he’s out there making theories about  _ video games _ but I couldn’t get why he was trying so hard to be friends with everyone.” She snorts, a cynical smile on her lips.

“I came here cause Manny was coming and cause Joey was supposed to be here, and I needed to ask him why the hell he dumped us all for a year and a half, like who  _ does  _ that? And Matt’s there but he’s saying hi to people. He made friends with half the group before I spoke to like, two people and he got here after me. And then we were in the park and he was like, goofing off with Safiya and Rosanna and running around and I didn’t get it, not really.”

She looks like she doesn’t know what she’s going to say, subconsciously pulling a lock of hair back behind her ear. “And then this whole mess started and I knew from the beginning that there was a pecking order. It was gonna be me, then Manny, and then whoever was left. That’s just how it had to be. But Matt was there, making videos and making friends and  _ caring  _ about everyone and I wanted to throttle him because he  _ couldn’t _ do that, he couldn’t get attached when it was his life versus theirs.” Her eyes smolder, bright under the yellow light like embers about to burst into flame, and then she relaxes. “I guess I got cold. Jealous, honestly, because I saw Matt and Safiya when they met each other so who was he to act like that after knowing her for a single day? But that’s not fair. I wasn’t being fair.”

She takes a long, long time to watch the camera, her jaw moving as she thinks about something. “Looking back, I guess I was scared. I’m still scared; Manny’s out there and he could die and I wouldn’t even be able to  _ tell him _ -” she takes a deep breath. “But that doesn’t mean it was right for me to be like that. I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, and for the first time in the night the action makes her look weary. “If Matt doesn’t make it out, I guess, I’ll bring these back to you, somehow. You, um, deserve that at least. I’m sorry.”

\---

Ơ̸̧̠̜̲̋́̒̅̈́̌̓͆̕̕c̴̨̛̛̟̯̩̥̈̃̄̾͐̌͊̃͐̑̀̔̚͜t̴̛͖̰̮͓̻̫̣͚͙͛ớ̶̢̧̟̦̭̺̼͈̠̲̈́̋̆̇̊̎̆̚̚͠͠b̶̭͔̠̬̻̜͓̣̩̫̪̘̣͉̖̽̀͗̎̊e̶͈̝̗̥̬̼͊͒͋̇͑͐̾̀̌̐̚r̷͖͖̳̮̘̫̎͗̿ ̶̛̗̩̗̫̯͂͊̈́͆͑̿͆̋̽̑̈́̓͛͝1̶̨̯̫͎̗̥̜͕̙̓͛̈̇̇̆̈́̉3̶̼̹̟͓͈̲͆̓̿͋̏̇̍̇̎̌̚͘͘͝͝t̸͚̰͚̲̜̳̊h̶̠̙͈̭̱̥͙͒̀̑̊̈́̎̆͆̄͘,̴̭̜͚̠̹̪̒̅̃͒̂̈́̿̅͛̎̕͝ ̴̢̘̞̣͇̜̜̯̓͛͒̾͂̆̑̇̿̑͌͜1̴̨̣̻͑͝9̴̼̯̟̮͖̩̺̳̺̭́̏͊̾̅̽̓̇̽̓̀̽̅̾7̷̡̡̨͔̤̰̮̼̥̣͚̫̬̺͛͝ͅ8̴̢̙̙̣̲̩͎̮̫͍̠͉̀͗̆̔̓̃̐͑̆͋ͅ:̷̧̨̟̜̰̙͔̬̮͖̮̼̮̾̍̏̊̐̇̓̃̉̀̊͝͝ͅ ̵̨̝̣̘̮̠̥̘̫̟̬̜̝̈́r̸̟͈̜̪͇̻̻̰͎̙͕̝͕̂̈́̋̒̄̑̚ỏ̸̧̗̖̫̖͉̱̳̗͕̫̥͍͇̣͐̌̀͊̾.̵̧̧̨̧̨̫̺̭̮̺̩̻̈́m̵͎̉͒͌͒̊̊p̴͕̯̜͈͈̳̊͛̄͂̀̐͗̿̈́͘͘4̷̛̘̙͔͇̻̞̠̻̝̮̈́̓͊͑̋̔́̀̂̕

 

The camera’s been turned on before it’s been set down. Matt moves to sit down somewhere, the lighting back to the soft yellow of the lounge, and the camera shakes as he puts it down on the table. 

His eyes are a dark, dark brown, and even hidden behind the shades they look beyond haunted. He looks directly at the camera, mouth opening like he’s about to say something before every bit of his self-composure breaks down.

Nobody speaks; the camera just picks up wave after wave of his shuddering sobs. His shoulders move up and down as he tries to keep them, fists clenched in front of him. His coat looks even more messy than earlier, his hair a wreck, and he looks straight down at the floor as he cries.

Eventually, someone closes the camera, taking it away with a careful hand. 

Through it all, Ro never comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, there’s an epilogue (or two) coming. Steph is going to need so much Advil to deal with this mess.

**Author's Note:**

> the first chapter is (Really) short, sorry!! Still working out the kinks of how I’m planning on formatting this.


End file.
